


The Void In The Heart

by dreabean, Troodon



Series: The Soul in the Machine [4]
Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: BDSM, Body Horror, Epilogue, Erotic Electrostimulation, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Other, The Outsider is a shit, good communication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-09 18:27:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 42,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12282036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreabean/pseuds/dreabean, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Troodon/pseuds/Troodon
Summary: Corvo woke up to a whole new world: a Dunwall in tatters, a best friend who won't look him in the eye, and a daughter with magic. Two of those things are easily solved.Only the price to pay for power is a soul and no one told Corvo when the collectors would come calling.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Told you we weren't done.

The first thing he became aware of was radiating pain. It started at his ankles, moving up into his knees - which, if he was being honest, never really recovered from the time he was the Masked Felon - and then shooting through his spine.

He tried to straighten up, but the agony of stiff limbs and unused muscles sent him straight to the floor. “Father? Daddy? Corvo?  _ Dad! _ ”

Corvo blinked, trying to focus his blurry eyesight and finally managed to place where he was and who he was with. “Emily?” he murmured, voice shot to hell. “What happened? Are you alright? Where’s Delilah?” 

“Delilah’s… gone. I took care of it, it’s okay now.” Emily dragged him into a hug, clinging to him fiercely. “We thought you were dead, we  _ knew  _ you were dead - you were made of stone, Dad, and it’s been months, we couldn’t even get you out of the throne room,” she babbled in his ear as he swept his gaze around the room.

Time had definitely passed - there were no bodies, no vines, no Delilah, no augmented soldiers. “We?” he asked.

Emily pulled back, nearly whacking herself in the ear with her fist as she connected her comm unit. “Uncle!” she shouted, just a bit too loud. “Uncle, I need you, you need to get to the throne room  _ immediately _ .”

“You know,” Corvo commented, “He’s going to think you’re dying now. Good job.”

The doors slammed open with a bang as Gerome Dashed into the room, pistol in one hand and blade in the other. “ _ Em,” _ he yelled.

Corvo tilted his head back to get a good look at him, squinting a little in the light. “You look like shit,” he said.

Gerome stared at him. He was pale and haggard, looking like he hadn’t slept properly in months.

“Speak for yourself,” he said, apparently on autopilot. Then he jerked and nearly stabbed himself trying to sheath his sword and holster his gun at the same time. “Wh- Corvo?”

Still holding onto Emily with one hand, Corvo waved with the other. “Lord Burton,” he said. 

Gerome took a few staggering steps towards him. “I’m fuckin’ dreamin’ again, ain’t I?” He reached out with a shaking hand towards Corvo’s face.

Corvo met his hands half way, grabbing Gerome’s wrist. “You might be,” he said. “But I doubt it. This is a bit crazy, even for us, don’t you think?” he asked, shifting carefully to sit cross-legged and take his weight off Emily. “Seriously, Gerome, did you sleep at  _ all _ ?”

Gerome crumpled to his knees in front of Corvo. He reached out his other hand, and lightly touched it to Corvo’s cheek. Then he surged forward and dragged Corvo into a kiss.

Shocked, Corvo stiffened, holding himself still. Whatever had happened in the time between Delilah’s arrival and right that moment, something had clearly changed. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Emily duck through the door to the foyer, and Corvo gently wrapped his arm around Gerome’s waist. He didn’t exactly kiss back, too confused and a little concerned - where was the Outsider?  _ Why _ was his best friend kissing him? - to reciprocate. 

The double doors to the outside slammed open, and Gerome startled backwards, almost knocking Corvo back to the floor. “Lord Attano?” Thomas gasped.

“Hi, Thomas,” Corvo said dryly, leaning up on his elbows. “Nice to see you too.” 

When he turned to look at Gerome though, he was gone - the only people still in the room were Thomas, the two guards who followed him in and Corvo himself. “You were dead,” Thomas said. 

“Clearly I wasn’t?” Corvo said, more than half a question. “I… Okay, first things first. What day is it and where’s the Outsider?”

“It’s the 7th of the Month of Winds,” Thomas answered. 

Corvo gaped at him. “It’s  _ what _ ?” 

“Lady Emily, Daud, Gerome, Cedric and I were in Karnaca to stop the coup attempt from getting any worse,” Thomas reported, crouching by Corvo. “We returned here in the Month of Nets, but once Delilah was taken care of, no one knew how to - well, we weren’t going to destroy your statue, so we just… left it, er, you, here.” He waved a hand over the broken stone around him. “As for your AI…” He trailed off. 

“Hello, my Host.” Corvo sagged forward as what felt like an immense weight draped over his back and shoulders. The voice, however synthesized it was, was very familiar.

Corvo twisted, catching sight of an almost familiar face, pale skin, strong jaw, and glowing eyes. “... Do I want to know?” he asked.

“I stole this body from someone and left them to die,” the Outsider said, smiling at him.

“ _ What.” _

“That was a joke.”

Thomas coughed. “Kirin Jindosh created androids, or… bodies made of nothing but Augments. When we eliminated him from the coup, we found an empty shell, and the Outsider… took it over. He’s made himself a nuisance ever since.”

The Outsider smirked at Thomas. “But finally being able to interact with you after so long watching is just so… fascinating.”

Corvo elbowed him. “Be nice,” he said. “And help me up. I’m old and this floor is not comfortable.” 

The Outsider picked him up as if he weighed nothing, and placed him lightly on his feet. “It is good to see you well, my Host.”

“I can see I have a lot to catch up on,” Corvo said. “Thomas, can you have someone bring food to my room? And let the rest know that I’m alive? Or… awake? I’ll see them once I’ve changed and showered.” 

“And bring my diagnostic kit and charging station while you’re at it, hm?” The Outsider called after him. “Perhaps a physician, since Corvo is back to his squishy, fragile, human self.”

Corvo rolled his eyes. “I see you haven’t changed even the slightest bit.” Together, they limped up the stairs, though Corvo needed to lean far too much of his weight on the Outsider. “Has it really been five months?” 

“Yes,” the Outsider said, all teasing manner gone from his voice. He looked at Corvo, catching his eye. “I mourned you. We all did. Emily very nearly did terrible things in her grief. And Gerome has suffered in silence while you were stone.”

Corvo exhaled sharply, holding his silence until they were in the safety of his room. It was different from when he’d last left it - which to him, seemed like hours rather than months - but his bed was in the same place it always was and he sank down gratefully, resting his aching legs. “About… him,” Corvo said slowly. “We’ll get back to the Emily thing in a second but - Gerome just kissed me. Before you and Thomas came into the throne room.” 

“I know. I saw. Do you expect me to disapprove?”

He shook his head. “Not as such, no. But since we really began this,” he gestured between the two of them, “there hasn’t been anyone else, for either of us. And that’s not something you keep from your partner.” 

“I’ve stayed true to you, and I know you’ve been true to me, unless you were having an affair with the marble pillar you were next to.” The Outsider smirked. “Perhaps your time as stone has changed your preferences?”

Corvo rolled his eyes. “I don’t remember anything after…” He shook his head. “No, no affairs with stone pillars, or with anything else. That’s not really where I was going with this,” he said. “I just didn’t want to keep it from you - especially because as soon as I can  _ find _ him again, we’ve apparently got a lot to talk about.”

The Outsider raised his eyebrows. “Do you want him?”

Sighing, Corvo leaned back against brand new pillows, stretching out his legs. “That’s not really the point either, Outsider,” he complained. 

“Yes, it is,” he replied evenly. “Quite a bit happened when you were away, my Host. Gerome is a surprisingly easy man to like, once I made my objections to that damnable nickname clear with a few tosses into the ocean.”

Corvo raised his eyebrow. “You threw him into the ocean? More than once? Is there footage?”

“I recorded every second and made a montage with humorous sound effects,” the Outsider promised, smug. “I’ll share it with you later. Answer the question.”

Sighing, Corvo moved over on the bed. “Come sit,” he said, patting the mattress next to him. “I’m not really sure how to answer your question, Outsider. I never thought about it before. If he’d made an attempt to climb into bed with us, I wouldn’t - won’t - turn him away, but that was not a come-fuck-me kiss.” 

The Outsider plopped down onto the bed, stretching out next to Corvo. “Indeed, it wasn’t,” he agreed. “I don’t feel the same level of affection for him that you might, but I know he is a good man, and a trustworthy one.”

Corvo leaned over and ran his fingers through the Outsider’s hair. “It’s been you for eleven years, Outsider,” he murmured. “I know that we don’t generally speak of these things, but it’s true.” 

The AI leaned into his touch. “I know,” he said. “We don’t need to, not when I can feel what you do. Think on it. I am with you, whatever you choose.” He paused, a sly expression crossing his face. “And I will say that should you consummate your relation with Gerome, I would be more than happy to offer my help however you like.”

Corvo snorted. “How quickly we go from wanting to be uploaded into a turret to helping me have sex with him, Outsider,” he said. 

The Outsider grinned. “I believe we established that turrets were far too simple for my mind, and far more suited for your primitive brain.”

Pulling a face, Corvo flicked his ear. “I spent five months as a statue, can we not upload my brain into anything else for awhile?” he asked, plaintive. 

“I promise not to upload your consciousness into anything,” the Outsider said, smirking.

“Thank you,” Corvo said, rolling his eyes. “I’ll think about what you said,” he added, “I’ll give Gerome some time to have his freak-out in peace, and then, we can talk, all three of us. Okay?” 

The Outsider looked pleased. “We are agreed.”

Corvo glanced at the clock on the wall, and then tugged the Outsider’s hair lightly. “This has applications,” he said, smirking a little. “You’ve had how long to get used to it? You’ll have to tell me all about it. With demonstrations.” 

“Hm? My hair? Not much to demonstrate, I’d think.” The Outsider sat up and smirked at him, the bastard.

“Don’t be pedantic,” Corvo said. “You know what I meant.” He gestured to the Outsider’s body. “There’s no tactful way to ask if you’re fully functional and anatomically correct, Outsider, help me out here.”

“Alas, Kirin Jindosh forgot some parts when building this model,” the Outsider said, hiding his face. “I understand if you want to reconsider our relationship.”

Alarmed, Corvo shook his head. “What? No! Of course not. Void, Outsider, I don’t care if this model can’t do any of that. We’ll figure it out, we always do.”

With a fluid shiver, the Outsider’s black, bodycon outfit melted away, proving that he was indeed anatomically correct, and he prowled up Corvo’s body. “That was a joke,” he said, all teeth and hungry eyes. “Now then, shall we make certain all  _ your _ parts are in working order after being in stone for so long?”

Corvo grinned, running his hands down the Outsider’s arms. “I  _ was  _ wondering why you hadn’t kissed me yet,” he said. 

“Oh dear,” the Outsider said, nose to nose with Corvo. “I seem to have forgotten how. I suppose I’ll need a reminder.”

“Liar,” Corvo said, laughing. He slid his hands through the Outsider’s hair and pulled him into a kiss. Despite being physical, instead of the strange mental electric pressure, the Outsider kissed the same as he remembered, all light brushes and gentle touches. It was languid and unhurried, and Corvo nipped at the Outsider’s lower lip. “I trust that jogged your memory?” he asked, a little breathless. 

The Outsider growled, a strangely electronic sound, and surged forwards to pin Corvo to the mattress. “I can  _ feel _ that.”

Corvo arched up against him, grinning. “That’s sort of the point, Outsider.” 

The Outsider gave him a patient look. “Corvo, this is the first time I have had any sort of sexual encounter in a physical body in well over four thousand years. It has been two hundred since I have been able to feel the world through anything other than someone else’s body. Forgive me if I find it rather overwhelming.”

In answer, Corvo kissed him again, rolling them over on the bed with some effort. “I think in that case,” he said, straddling the Outsider’s hips, “it should be  _ my _ turn to take care of you. After eleven years of it being the other way around, I think it’s only fair.” 

The Outsider’s lips parted. “Oh, only to be fair, of course,” he breathed.

“Of course,” Corvo said. He leaned down and gave the Outsider a brief kiss, trailing his lips across his sharp jaw. “Tell me if I do something you don’t like,” he said. “Same rules apply as usual.” He didn’t wait for the Outsider to agree, simply continued pressing open-mouthed kisses to the Outsider’s throat and collarbone, nipping once sharply.

The groan that the Outsider uttered was half static, but Corvo grinned to hear it. It was familiar in a way, and he kissed down the center of the Outsider’s chest. He tasted human, like skin and sweat, which was only strange when Corvo paused to think about how the body he inhabited was actually mechanical. 

He slid down the bed, watching the Outsider’s face as he went, still pressing biting kisses in his wake. “Still with me, Outsider?” he murmured against a sharp hipbone. He could feel how hard the Outsider was - and why exactly did this Jindosh make androids with the ability to - nevermind, he didn’t want to know - and he smirked, skipping over the Outsider’s erection entirely, to bite the inside of his thigh. 

When the Outsider made another one of his low, static-filled groans, Corvo took pity on him. He dotted kisses up the underside of the Outsider’s cock, shifting so he was fit between the Outsider’s legs. He looked up to find that the Outsider’s glowing eyes were glazed and distant, fixed on Corvo’s face. Slowly, taking his words about not being touched for four thousand some odd years, Corvo slid his mouth down around him, letting his jaw fall open. 

It stretched a bit - the Outsider wasn’t small - and Corvo hadn’t done this to a real person since well before falling in love with Jessamine, but the application was the same, and Corvo had a very good memory. The Outsider’s fingers balled up in the sheets by Corvo’s head, and Corvo pulled back, just enough to curl his tongue around the head of the Outsider’s cock. 

The Outsider’s hips jumped, but Corvo was expecting it, letting the Outsider move as he wished. He couldn’t quite get all of him in his mouth, but Corvo circled his hand around what was left, rubbing up and down with his thumb against the vein of the Outsider’s cock. 

He traced his tongue around the head again, before sliding his mouth down as far as he could go and hollowing his cheeks with pressure. He had to brace himself with his elbow, as the muscles in his shoulders complained but judging by how much the Outsider was stiffening, he didn’t have to worry about his muscles for much longer. 

Corvo pulled back again, ducking back down, and dug his tongue into the sensitive underside of the Outsider’s cock. 

The Outsider cried out, syllables of Corvo’s name lost in static as he came, and Corvo pulled away, making a face. It was almost  _ sweet _ , and definitely not the consistency he was expecting, which made him wonder even harder about Jindosh and his proclivities. He pressed a kiss to the Outsider’s trembling leg. “You okay?” he asked gently.  

The Outsider stretched out languidly against the sheets. “Mmh. Feels different when it’s not filtered through another’s experiences.” He looked down the length of his body at Corvo. “Come here.”

Corvo shrugged out of his jacket, moving back up the bed and laying next to the Outsider. “I bet. Not too overwhelming?” He draped himself over the Outsider, arching against him at the pressure. 

The Outsider grinned and very lightly raked his nails up Corvo’s back. “Let me see what you can do, my Host.”

He shivered at the touch, and got to work tugging off his vest and belt. “This uniform is unnecessarily complicated,” he complained.

The Outsider caught Corvo’s shirt in both hands and  _ yanked _ . The fabric ripped open like tissue paper, buttons scattering across the room. Corvo had to take a moment to compose himself before pushing his pants over his hips and kicking them off to the side of the bed. “That,” he murmured breathlessly, “was  _ unfairly _ attractive.”

He pushed up to kiss the Outsider again, and this kiss was anything but gentle and languid. Corvo’s skin felt tight, flushed and overwarm as he pressed himself against the Outsider, and he groaned at the feeling of flesh against flesh. 

The Outsider buried his fingers in Corvo’s hair, tugging just hard enough to make Corvo arch, and Corvo took one of the Outsider’s hands before he gripped himself. The touch was almost too much at first, and Corvo gasped, shuddering hard. “... I suddenly believe that thing about it being five months,” he murmured against the Outsider’s jaw. 

“Mm,” the Outsider hummed in agreement. “You aren’t the only who languished untouched.”

Corvo rolled his hips into their shared grip, leaning up to kiss the Outsider again. “Missed me, did you?” he asked, smirking, though the effect was somewhat ruined by his hitching breaths. 

“Did you know that at night, I wandered the ship we were on, unseen, unheard? And do you know what I heard?” The Outsider nipped at Corvo’s jaw. “A certain mutual friend, calling out your name. I wonder what he imagined, there in the dark?”

Corvo’s grip faltered slightly, and he pulled back in shock. “What?” he asked, but the Outsider urged his hand to keep stroking himself and Corvo shuddered again. “You heard - that?” he gasped, flushing in confused, aroused embarrassment. 

“Oh, yes. Have you ever noticed his hands, my dear Host? Such long fingers. Nimble. They’d have to be, with his work. Callused. Strong.

“Can you imagine how they would feel inside you?”

Corvo’s hips jerked up at the thought, and he tightened his grip. “I am now,” he growled, kissing the Outsider hard, nipping at his bottom lip in retaliation. It only took a few more shared strokes before he was coming over their linked fingers, his orgasm taking him by surprise. He flopped against the Outsider’s body, uncaring of the mess between them. “You’ve really thought about this, haven’t you?” Corvo asked quietly.

“After I found this body, Gerome and I had a talk over drinks,” the Outsider said, grabbing Corvo’s torn shirt and cleaning up the mess. “Well, he drank. I just destroy the alcohol through a chemical reaction. But we spoke, and the topic we always had in common was you.”

“That’s not really a surprise,” Corvo said. “But, okay. You win. I’ll think about it. If he… if it’s something he wants, and it’s not just you stirring up shit.” He sighed. “I’ll think about it.”

“That is all I can ask,” the Outsider said, kissing him.

Corvo kissed him back, rather enjoying the physical affection between them. “We should go find the others. And an elixir.” He pulled away after another second. “Looks like I have a lot of catching up to do. You ready?”

The Outsider smiled, warm and full of affection. “Always, my Host.”

*

The sound of fighting drew his attention to the training yard by the newly renovated gazebo. Corvo stepped outside, leaning against the floodlight pole, watching as Emily teleported all over the field, running circles around Gerome. 

“Too slow, Uncle!” she called over before appearing next to him and prodding him in the side. He turned and swiped at her but she danced out of the way, teleporting a few feet away. 

“Fuck you, you little shit,” he growled, trying to pin her down. “Quit fuckin’ usin’ magic!” He lunged for her, but she teleported away again before he could grab her.

“You're the one who told me to incorporate it into my fighting style,” she taunted, dissolving into smoke and crawling along the ground like a many limbed cloud. She reformed a few feet from the edge of the rink and sketched a mocking bow. “It's like you're not even trying!”

Gerome snarled wordlessly and leapt at her. Before he could even reach her, the Outsider rippled into being from what Corvo could have sworn was empty space. He caught Gerome easily, twisting and tossing him across the area and onto a stack of training mats left in a pile by the wall.

Gerome let out a stream of breathless curses, lying prone on the mats. “I fuckin’ hate you both. Fuckin’ ass hats.”

Emily grinned at him, wrapping one arm around the Outsider waist and leaning her cheek on his shoulder. “Rule the First,” she said, quoting Gerome from early trainings, “Use everything in your surroundings to win. It's not cheating if someone is trying to kill you.”

Gerome groaned, rolling off of the mats and onto his feet. He glared at Emily and the Outsider for a moment, then snorted. “Atta girl,” he said, laughing softly. He ambled over to tousle Emily’s hair and punch the Outsider amiably in the shoulder. The Outsider suffered the affection with an amused smile.

“You taught her well, Burton,” he said. Gerome staggered comically back, clutching at his heart.

“Em, quick, restrain him! He’s fuckin’ complimentin’ me! I think he’s goin’ berserk!” Gerome grinned at the Outsider who rolled his eyes.

“I promise that when I eventually begin my plot to take over and rule the world as your robot overlord, I’ll make sure to continue to insult you so you’ll never catch onto my evil plans,” he deadpanned, smirking at Gerome.

Emily snorted, winking at Gerome before she dissolved into smoke again, swirling around the Outsider and yanking him off his feet. She dragged him several yards, depositing him on the mats, turning solid, sitting cross-legged on the Outsider's chest. “Some evil Overlord,” she teased.

The Outsider raised an eyebrow at her. “You do recall what happened the last time you attempted this maneuver, don’t you, my dear?”

“Oh, I know, but it was too good a moment to pass up,” Emily said. She teleported away, appearing next to Gerome. “Is your honour assuaged, Uncle?” she asked him. 

“If I had honour,” he drawled, “it would’a been.”

Emily pouted at him. “You're not even the slightest bit impressed?” 

Gerome snorted. “He let you haul him around.”

“He did - Oh my gods, did you?” Emily demanded.

The Outsider stretched out on the mats and smirked at her. “I’m a machine, my dear. My reflexes far surpass yours.”

She pouted again, obviously for real and dropped down next to the Outsider. “You two couldn't have let me have my illusions, could you?”

“Nah, you’re too fuckin’ old for it,” Gerome drawled, patting her head.

“Illusions are bad for you,” the Outsider added.

“You two are the worst,” Emily grumbled. She looked over to where Corvo was standing and grinned brightly. “Dad!”

Corvo jogged over toward them, fully planning on grabbing Gerome and hashing things out with him. 

“Whoops, uh… Gotta take this call,” Gerome said, and Dashed from the area before Corvo could even open his mouth. He wasn't even wearing a comm.

Corvo paused mid-step, and he sighed. “Well,  _ that _ could have gone better,” he muttered, lowering himself to the ground on the other side of the Outsider. “Didn't mean to interrupt your training - I didn't think he'd run off before I could even get close.”

“What was  _ that _ about?” Emily asked, intrigued. 

“Your uncle kissed your father,” the Outsider said, amused. “Then he panicked.”

Emily whipped her head around to stare at Corvo. “What?!”

Corvo cleared his throat. “It was right when I woke up, you left me with him and he kissed me,” he said. “I've been trying to talk to him about it.”

“ _ Finally _ ,” Emily said. 

He frowned at her. “Finally, what does that mean, finally?”

Emily shrugged. “I've known about Uncle's feelings for ages now,” she said. “I'm glad you're finally doing something about them.” She glanced down at the Outsider. “... Right?” she asked him.

The Outsider languidly waved a hand. “If we can get him to stay in one place,” he said.

“I'll see what I can do,” Emily said loyally. 

“You don't have to pick sides, Em,” Corvo said, amused despite himself. “It's only been a few days, I'll give him a few more.”

Emily ruffled her hair, pulling it out of the bun. “I'm happy for you.” She glanced at the Outsider again before smiling at Corvo. “Or I will be whenever you can pin him down. Er… not literally maybe.”

The Outsider smirked at her. “We’ll see.”

She pushed at his face. “Too much information!”

He swatted her hand away, gently, amused. “My dear, that is the very foundation of our relationship,” he drawled.

Emily made a horrified face. “Dad! No!  _ No!  _ I do not need to hear this.  _ No _ .”

The Outsider laughed. “Suffering is good for you,” he said, chuckling.

Corvo stared at them both. “Did. Did you just call him dad?” he asked blankly. 

Emily shrugged, still looking perturbed. “Well isn't he?” she asked. 

The Outsider rolled smoothly to his feet and draped himself over Emily, causing her to stagger. “I’ve adopted your child,” he said, deadpan. “She’s mine now.”

“I woke up in an alternate reality,” Corvo murmured. 

“You're heavy, Step-Bot,” Emily grunted, trying to shove him over onto Corvo. “I'm gonna suffocate.”

“Hm? What was that?” the Outsider teased. “My audio sensors seem to be malfunctioning.”

Corvo tugged on his arm. “If you crush her, you'll lose your easy target,  _ amante,” _ he said. 

The Outsider straightened, allowing Emily to escape from beneath him. “Well, we can’t have that,” he said.

“Go squish Corvo,” Emily wheezed, rubbing her side. “Ow.”

The Outsider nudged up against Corvo. “I squish whomever I please,” he informed her primly. “I am not subject to your whims.”

“I’d probably like it more,” Corvo said reasonably. 

Emily screeched and teleported away. “You two keep that stuff to  _ yourselves _ ,” she called from the other side of the yard. “I'll see you at dinner. Ugh.” She was gone a second later and Corvo laughed softly. 

The Outsider immediately nuzzled close to Corvo, wrapping his arms around him.

Corvo ran his fingers through the Outsider's hair, pressing closer. “All an elaborate plan to get her to leave?” he wondered. 

“I have the best plans,” the Outsider informed him. “And Emily is easy to manipulate into leaving.”

Corvo chuckled, pressing a kiss to the Outsider's forehead. “Just to cuddle with me, hm?”

“There is a small chance I may have missed you,” the Outsider admitted.

Corvo grinned. “Only a small chance? Better call up Delilah and have her turn me back into a statue for a while longer then,” he teased.

The Outsider’s arms tightened painfully. “Don’t,” he snapped.

“Too soon?” Corvo murmured, running his hands along the Outsider's arms. “I'm okay,  _ amante _ .”

“You weren’t,” he muttered. “And everything was wrong. I forbid you to leave me again.”

Corvo tilted the Outsider's face up and kissed him gently. “I have no plans on leaving you,” he promised. 

“Good,” the Outsider growled fiercely, nipping at Corvo’s lip. “Because I won’t let you.”

He adjusted his grip on the Outsider, pulling him closer and pouring all of his affection and apprehension into their kiss, letting the Outsider take his weight. “I'm right here,” he murmured between kisses. 

The Outsider tugged him over to the mats and curled up around him. “I… know I don’t say it, but… I care very deeply for you, my Host.”

Corvo laughed, leaning into him. “I know,” he responded. “I love you too.”

The Outsider smiled and cuddled closer. There was a soft whirr of machinery, and his cool, android body began to warm to a more human temperature.

“ _ That's  _ a handy trick,” Corvo said, sliding his hand over the Outsider's back. 

“Rather useful for an intended sexbot,” the Outsider deadpanned.

“That's still weird,” Corvo complained. 

He could feel the Outsider smirk against his nape. “A lot of the skills this body was created with can be weaponized,” he said. “Do you remember Bunting?”

“ _ No _ ,” Corvo said forbiddingly. 

“No? Shall I describe everything in detail for you, then?” the Outsider teased.

Corvo swatted him. “Please don't. I remember every detail and I'm almost positive that's because of you. And I hate that I'm curious and want to know why you're bringing it up.”

“Would I bring up a memory just to torment you with it?” the Outsider asked, mock-innocently. “As it is, I do have a reason for reminding you about it. It turns out that I can modify this body. A few stun grenades, and I can now electrocute my foes.” Corvo could just feel him smirking again. “Or use it for…  _ other _ means.”

Corvo stilled, thinking about it. “What I really hate,” he said contemplatively, “Is that I'm actually intrigued by the prospect. You bring me to strange places, Outsider.”

“I am here to enrich your life in unexpected ways.”

“Is that what you're here for? I thought it was to drive me crazy,” Corvo said. “Meaning is, of course, open to interpretation.”

The Outsider snorted, amused. “As are most of our interactions,” he said. “There was a reason so many speculated on the existence of your rumoured lover.”

“Because you have no self control?” Corvo asked, smirking.

The Outsider pinched his hip. “I was a god. I have no need for your self control.” He paused. “And tormenting you and stirring up the court was entertaining.”

“Yes,” Corvo muttered. “Hiding the results of your efforts in the middle of court was the highlight of my week.”

“It certainly was mine,” the Outsider teased.

Snorting, Corvo turned in the Outsider's arms to face him. “You don't say,” he said with heavy sarcasm. “I had  _ no  _ idea.”

The Outsider smirked and kissed him. “Now, I’ve been blocking some pings from Daud about a certain meeting you’re now rather late for. Shall I let him know where you are and have him find us like this, my Host?”

Corvo narrowed his eyes. “Sure,” he said, calling the Outsider's bluff. “It would clear up some of our issues, I think.” 

The Outsider grinned ferally. “Your mistake is thinking I would pass up a chance to torment him.”

“... Good point,” Corvo said. He leaned in and kissed the Outsider quickly. “You'll have to show me your electricity trick later.”

“Later,” the Outsider promised. “I have to recalibrate it so that I don’t burn you.”

“It's a date,” Corvo responded, pulling away. “Meet me after dinner?”

The Outsider stood up, his form rippling like a mirage. “I’ll find you,” he said, then disappeared.

“Show off!” Corvo called, grinning. 

*

Corvo spent far too many hours pouring over security reports with Daud that evening after dinner. Eventually, with most of the footage gone over or deleted, Daud finally leaned back in the seat he’d pulled up. “It’s good to have you back,” he said. 

Glancing over at him, Corvo lifted an eyebrow. “Because now you don’t have to do this part by yourself?” he asked.

Daud smirked. “Something like that.”

“It’s good to be back,” Corvo admitted. “Though maybe not for this stunningly boring work,” he said, turning off his terminal. “I wasn’t aware of much when I was… incapacitated,” he added. “But I’m certain I didn’t miss this.”

“Best not make that joke near any of the others,” Daud advised, standing up and pulling his chair back around to the front of the desk. “I’ll see you in the morning for breakfast, I’m certain.”

Corvo nodded, hesitating a little. “Can I ask you something?” he finally said and Daud paused at the door. “What’s wrong with Gerome?”

Daud sighed and turned back to face Corvo. “You haven’t asked him?” 

“I would absolutely ask him,” Corvo defended. “If he would let me come anywhere near him.”

That made Daud blink in surprise. “He’s avoiding you?” 

“You’re the Spymaster, how have you not noticed that?” Corvo muttered.

Rolling his eyes, Daud said, “I generally let the Whalers do their own things, and focus more on the threats to Emily. As for Burton… he didn’t take your death well. And, when it came to light that you might not actually be dead, he improved - until Emily killed Delilah and you remained a statue.” 

That did explain why Gerome looked like ten miles of bad road, but not why he wasn’t improving now that Corvo was awake and aware.

“I assume,” Daud continued, “that you’re not asking me why he’s avoiding you.”

“Yeah, no,” Corvo said. “That one I have a handle on.”

Daud nodded once. “I’d wish you luck, but I absolutely don’t want to get in the middle of this.”

Corvo waved him off. “Good night, Daud.”

As soon as the door was closed behind him, Corvo sat back in his seat. It was late - he should find his way to his flat, but he instead pulled open the security camera footage, flicking through each vid file to see if he could pinpoint Gerome’s current location. He found Emily immediately, curled up with the Twins and Alexi in her apartment, then found each of the others, except for Gerome - he was either outside of the Tower or doing a very good job of only traveling in the blind spots.

Knowing Gerome, it was probably the second.

A spark snapped against the back of his neck, causing Corvo to jump.

He rubbed the back of his head, twisting to look behind him and saw nothing. 

There was another painful jolt, this time on his ear. Corvo flinched and swatted at it, finding nothing.

Now a little alarmed, Corvo checked the cables around his desk, making sure nothing was open or sparking. Finding everything normal, he sat back in his chair and swept his eyes around the room, looking for an explanation.

This time, electricity buzzed across his nipples.

“Being invisible is cheating,” Corvo said, scowling and rubbing at his chest to disperse the strange feeling. 

Invisible hands gripped his thighs, sending electricity through them, causing the muscles to spasm. The hands forced them open, and slid slowly up towards his groin.

Letting his legs go loose, Corvo reached up and found the top of the Outsider’s head, threading his fingers through his hair. 

The Outsider lowered his head to Corvo's ear, licking along the curve and leaving a tingling trail. 

“Good boy,” he purred.

The Outsider cupped Corvo's cock, turning down the current until it was just a buzzing, tingling feeling. Corvo could feel the muscles around his groin contract involuntarily.

Corvo groaned quietly, letting his hands fall back to the arms of his chair, tightening his grip there. “You’re just going to be invisible the whole time?” he asked, a little breathless. “That’s hardly fair.”

“I am rarely 'fair’, my Host,” the Outsider said, biting down on the muscle of Corvo's neck. “Bend over your desk.”

Standing, Corvo nudged his chair out of the way, leaning back briefly against the length of the Outsider behind him. “This is very disconcerting,” he grumbled, even as he complied, draping himself over the desk, leaning his weight on his elbows and forearms.

There was a faint pressure at the bottom of his pants zipper, and electricity zinged up it to stimulate the nerves in his cock. The Outsider's other hand slid beneath his shirt to send a buzzing current though his nipples.

Corvo huffed, pressing his hands flat against the desk. “Tease,” he complained quietly.

The Outsider unbuckled his belt, his charged fingers sending jolts through his abdomen every time they brushed his skin. 

Corvo shifted his hips, leaning more of his weight onto his forearms, to arch his back. The Outsider must have been just out of range behind him because Corvo couldn't feel him, but he spread his legs to give the Outsider more room to work.

The Outsider eased Corvo's pants down, drawing out the contact with Corvo's skin. He jerked as a knuckle, buzzing with electricity, pressed against the space behind his balls. The current burned through him, stimulating his prostate from the outside in. There was a wet sound behind him, and one slippery finger slid inside, finding the bundle of nerves and rubbing it between the two points of pressure.

Corvo tried to muffle his cry into his arms but he couldn't stop the whining keen that slipped out between his teeth. He pressed back into the Outsider's hands, head dropping down to rest on the desk.

Teeth dug into his nape, tugging lightly. 

“You should see how you look, my Host,” the Outsider purred. “All strung out and begging, but no one else in the room. Imagine what this must look like to outsiders. “ Another finger slipped in, sending a more powerful jolt through him. “The esteemed Lord Protector, splayed out on his desk, coming apart with no apparent cause.”

Corvo's resulting moan tipped up into a keen and he gripped the desk hard, fingers digging in. “Outsider,” he murmured breathlessly. “Please. Don't tease.  _ Please. _ ”

“No,” he growled, stroking a hand up Corvo's cock. “Beg all you like, your pleasure is mine alone, right now.” The Outsider bit a row of marks just below Corvo's shirt collar, screwing into him with his slicked, electrified fingers. “You'll take what I give you, my Host.”

Corvo pressed his forehead into the desk, arching farther into the Outsider's grip. He writhed back, trying to match the the speed of the Outsider's fingers, keening quietly with every thrust. The feeling of sparks swept him away and the world dissolved into the warm, pleasure-soaked, feeling in his nerves. “ _ Cazzo, cazzo, fuck -  _ Outsider,  _ please,” _ he begged, recognizing it was futile even as his orgasm built at the base of his spine. 

“Hm,” the Outsider hummed. Corvo could hear him smirking. His shadow appeared, leaning over Corvo's back. 

“Come for me, Corvo,” he murmured, softly. “Give our audience a show.” The Outsider pulled his fingers away and thrust into him, burying himself to the hilt.

Corvo’s back bowed hard and he cried out, pushing back against the Outsider until his words registered. He looked up in shock, meeting Gerome’s eyes where he stood in Corvo’s doorway. A particularly hard thrust broke Corvo’s thoughts into smoke, and he shuddered into orgasm, eyes still locked with Gerome's. 

The Outsider fucked him through his orgasm, biting a mark through Corvo's shirt. His hand slid down Corvo's chest to circle his cock, the electrical current preventing him from softening.

His powerful, rolling thrusts showed no signs of slowing.

Corvo jerked hard, gasping and a pulse of fresh electricity made his eyes slam closed. He pushed back against the Outsider, overstimulation wreaking havoc on his senses. He managed to drag his eyes open again, but found the doorway empty. Gerome had vanished. 

“Mm, a shame,” the Outsider purred. “I thought that, by putting you on display like this, I might be able to tempt him in.” He wrapped a hand around Corvo's neck and tugged him back against his chest. Any leverage Corvo had disappeared, and he was held helpless and twitching in the Outsider's grip.

Corvo reached back and grabbed the back of the Outsider's neck, holding on tightly. He leaned back, going limp in the Outsider's hands. “He didn't know,” Corvo murmured, voice broken in half by whines. “Didn't get it- Outsider,  _ please. _ ”

The Outsider didn't stop or slow. “Perhaps I need to tie you up and leave you hard and begging on his bed,” he mused. “Perhaps  _ then _ he'd understand. A gift, for good behaviour.”

There was no hiding the reaction Corvo had to that. He shivered in the Outsider's arms, head falling back against his collarbone. 

“Oh?” the Outsider said, softly and amused. “You'd like that, would you?” He raised a hand to pinch and zap Corvo's nipples, eliciting a keening cry. “Leaving you there for Gerome to find? I'll prepare you beforehand, get you slick and on the very edge, then I'll wait and watch as he takes you. I do so like a good show, my Host.”

Corvo bucked and seized in his grip. “After we talk,” he managed to say, “then,  _ please. _ ” He tried to press back into the Outsider's thrusts, but without leverage, just managed to shudder and jerk uselessly. “Yes, please, Outsider.”

The Outsider bit him again with a soft growl. “Good boy,” he praised, dropping his free hand to Corvo's cock and beginning a brutal pace. “Come for me, my Host. Let me hear you.”

The pleasure was turning Corvo’s brain into nothingness, and he jerked and writhed in the Outsider's hands. His throat hurt from the amount of his keening cries and Corvo shouted, voice cracked and broken as he came for the second time. He fell limp into the Outsider's arms, still whining quietly, feeling the aftershocks of pleasure skating through his skin.

“That's it,” the Outsider soothed, stroking a hand down Corvo's spine. He easily scooped Corvo up, and curled up with him on Corvo's chair. “That was very good.” 

Corvo tucked his head under the Outsider's chin. “It's gonna be harder to talk to Gerome now, you realize,” he murmured, curling his fingers into the Outsider's hair.

“It's his fault for barging in without knocking,” the Outsider said, primly. 

Snorting, Corvo said, “He could have knocked. I wouldn't have noticed even a little.”

The Outsider preened. “I  _ am _ quite good at sex with a body. I can see the appeal.”

“You were quite good before the body,” Corvo pointed out. 

The Outsider started finger combing Corvo's hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. “Now, now. I already have you naked from the waist down on my lap. I hardly need any more buttering up.”

Corvo pressed up into the Outsider's hand. “To be entirely fair,  _ amante,” _ Corvo said dryly, “You hardly needed any buttering up in the first place.”

“True,” the Outsider agreed.

“Considering how we started,  _ I'm  _ the one that needs buttering up,” Corvo mused, pressing a kiss to the Outsider's neck. 

“Mm,” he hummed. “After eleven years, I'm sure you're fine, my Host.”

Chuckling, Corvo peered up at the Outsider. “Romance is dead,” he said. 

“Well,” the Outsider mused. “I suppose I can light some candles and open a bottle of wine before bending you over your desk.”

Corvo snorted. “Oh yes, very thoughtful,” he murmured, nipping the Outsider's collarbone in retribution. “I have a perfectly good bed we could break in, you know.”

“I wonder if I  _ could _ break it,” the Outsider said, thoughtfully. 

Corvo swatted him. “Do not break my bed. I do not want to explain how I broke that to  _ anyone. _ Ever.”

“But imagine their envy,” the Outsider wheedled.

“ _ No. _ ” Corvo sat up, switching positions to straddle the Outsider. “You can convince me to do a lot of things,  _ amante _ , but that is not going to be one of them.”

“Not even for fantastic sex,” the Outsider said. “You could even say it's…  _ divine.” _

Corvo rolled his eyes. “Why do I love you, again?” he wondered with a heavy sigh. “Answer is still no.”

The Outsider chuckled. “It was worth a try,” he said, tilting his head to kiss Corvo. He grinned against Corvo's mouth and nipped him. “Perhaps I could persuade Gerome to try.”

Corvo kissed back before pulling away. “Maybe I should send you after him,” he mused. “You'll have better luck pinning him down than I will, probably.” He leaned his forehead against the Outsider's. “Catching him is one thing, convincing him he's wanted will be quite another.”

“He does have quite a bit of survivor's guilt and believes he's entirely at fault for everything,” the Outsider said, bluntly. “But I don't have your level of skill when dealing with affairs of the heart. I fear I'd only make it worse.”

“He believes  _ what? _ ” Corvo winced. “I really need to talk to him, sooner rather than later. What happened to me wasn't his fault, it wasn't anyone's fault. It just happened.” He tightened his grip on the Outsider. “And I'm fine now. I survived.”

“Yes, yes,” the Outsider said, waving a hand. “I didn't say it was the truth, just what he believed. There's no need to reassure me,  _ I'm _ perfectly fine.”

Corvo gave him a narrow look. “You're a terrible liar,  _ amante _ ,” he murmured, tilting his head up for another kiss.

The Outsider obliged him, then pouted. “No, I'm not. I am excellent at everything I do. Well, beyond messy things like human emotions.”

“Perhaps I'm just skilled at reading your tone,” Corvo said, amused. “Otherwise, yes, yes you are a terrible liar.” 

The Outsider sulked. “Go put your pants on, my Host,” he grumbled. “Clearly prolonged exposure has caused you to see through my masterful facade of an impartial god-AI.”

“Sorry, who took my pants off in the first place?” Corvo asked pointedly, sliding off the Outsider's lap to tug his clothing back on. 

The Outsider waved a hand. “Minor details,” he said, dismissively.

Once his clothing was situated, Corvo tugged the Outsider out of the chair. “Minor details, my ass,” he said. “Now, come on. I have a perfectly comfortable bed upstairs and a strong desire to have you in it with me. We can tackle Gerome tomorrow.”

The Outsider smirked. “Literally, or…?”

“Depends on him,” Corvo said lightly. “Doubt he'd be immediately down for athletic threesome sex, honestly. Don't start anything,” he warned, tugging on the Outsider's arm. 

“You know me too well,” the Outsider said, amused. 

“After eleven years, I’d hope so,” Corvo replied. “Come on,” he said, dropping a kiss on the Outsider's pout. “Take me to bed.”

*

Gerome did an admirable job avoiding Corvo for the next several days before Corvo caught him on camera going into the communal kitchen on the Whalers floor. When several minutes passed and Gerome didn't immediately exit, Corvo closed down his station and hurried to the elevator. 

“Hey,” he said, tapping the unplugged comm in his left ear, the signal for talking to the Outsider, “I think I can corner Gerome in the kitchen. Not ideal, too many sharp things for him to throw at me, but better than nothing. Wish me luck.”

<Good luck, my Host.>

He pushed open the door to the kitchen and slipped in on silent feet, looking around the room. 

It was empty - and Corvo blinked in surprise. He could have sworn he’d seen Gerome go in - and there was only one exit so if he’d managed to leave before Corvo got down the stairs, they’d have run into each other.

He switched his eye Augments over, and swept the room again, seeing the glow of red bodies in the corner behind the counter. 

Even more confused than ever, Corvo stepped lightly around the preparation stations, and drew up short. 

He’d found Gerome, but was faced with a scowling Thomas as well. Gerome was asleep, half in Thomas’ lap, curled around him. Even in sleep, Gerome was frowning, his face twitching with unease. He didn’t look good - dark circles under his eyes, his skin just a touch too pale, even for Dunwall. 

Corvo opened his mouth to say something but Thomas held up a hand, making an abortive gesture for silence. “If you wake him up,” he growled, voice barely a whisper, “I might actually kill you.”

Corvo knelt down in front of them. “Thomas,” he greeted neutrally, deciding not to rise to the bait. “Clearly I’ve missed something. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on here.”

Thomas’ scowl grew several shades darker. “I knew about you and the Outsider,” he spat, voice still quiet. “Didn’t think you’d reject him like that though.”

That took a second to sink in and Corvo had to blink for a second in shock as he gathered his thoughts back up. “Well, apparently,” he said, “you’ve been misinformed. I haven’t rejected Gerome at all; I haven’t been able to say two words to him since I woke up, since he keeps Dashing off and avoiding me.”

The dark scowl on Thomas’ face disappeared with surprise. “You - he - well. That’s not how he explains it.”

“Yeah, I’ve gotten that impression,” Corvo muttered. “Every time I get near him he makes some stupid excuse and runs off on me.”

“He said last night he went to go speak with you, and found you… indisposed,” Thomas said. 

Corvo made a face. “Yes, fine. That part is true. He caught the Outsider with me because he didn’t knock on my door. Didn’t notice he was there until way too late to say anything, and he was gone before I could do much.” He held up a hand when Thomas went to speak. “I’ve been with the Outsider for eleven years, Thom; I’m not planning on rejecting Gerome but nor am I planning on dumping the Outsider. We’ll figure it out, all three of us,  _ if _ we can get Gerome to stop running away at the slightest provocation.” 

Thomas’ face softened just slightly. “He seemed very certain that he’d fucked it all up.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Corvo said. “Look, I know he’s not been sleeping, so I’ll leave you two here so he can get some rest, but will you try and impress upon him that I’m not going to kick him out of the Tower or my life? Please?”

“... Sure,” Thomas answered after a long beat. “I’ll try my best.”

Corvo nodded, reaching out and tucking a loose strand of Gerome’s hair behind his ear, keeping his touch gentle. “I have no plans on breaking his heart,” he said quietly. “And I miss him. This is the longest we’ve gone without speaking in… well, since we met.” He sighed, standing up. “Are you going to try and move him to his rooms?”

Thomas shook his head. “If I move too much he’ll wake up. I’m fine where I am for a few hours. I have a datapad, and my comm. I’ll ping you and the Outsider when he wakes.”

“Thanks, Thom,” Corvo said. He went over to the cupboard and pulled out a box of Emily’s favorite cookies. “Here. You want something to drink?”

“I’ll take some pear soda,” Thomas answered, taking the box of sweets. 

Once Corvo had gotten him settled, he paused before exiting. “If he gives you a chance to speak to him, tell him to come find me? Please?”

Thomas nodded, saluting him. “I’ll try.” 

As soon as Corvo closed the door, he locked it, putting a Do Not Disturb notice over the HoloLock. “I knew him catching us would come back to bite us,” he said, tapping his comm. 

<The situation seems more dire than I'd anticipated,> the Outsider said. <I'll talk to him too. I'll ping you when I have his location, so come to me when you get the signal.>

“Sounds like a plan,” Corvo agreed, heading up to his office. “I’ll finish the work I hadn’t gotten to last night, and let him sleep. You’re connected to all my pings, so as soon as Thomas lets us know when he’s up, you can track him down.”

<I'll be in touch.>

*

After several hours - too few to be considered a good night's rest, and too many to be considered a nap - Thomas pinged Corvo with the warning that Gerome was on his way to the training yard. Corvo shunted the ping toward the Outsider. “Good luck,  _ amante _ ,” he said. “Let me know when you find him.”

<Already on my way,> he sent back. <Start making your way there.>

Corvo saved his work on the new coding for the security room, and started shutting everything down. He grabbed his jacket and shoes, tugging both on before heading out into the hall toward the elevator. “In the elevator now,” he reported. “Be there in… three minutes or so.” 

<Acknowledged. I see him.>

It was a short jog from the elevator to the training room and Corvo stopped short at the door to the outside at the sound of raised voices. He slipped out into the shadow of the building, finding Gerome and the Outsider - clothed, for once - in a standoff in the middle of the ring.

“I get it, okay,” Gerome was rasping, his voice shaking badly. He was standing with his arms wrapped around himself, hunched over like he’d been shot.

“Burton-”

“No, I fuckin’ get it. He's yours. I guess I thought that… I mean, after you helped me… but I was fuckin’ stupid. You just. You didn't need to go  _ that _ far. I'm sorry, alright?” He looked up at the Outsider, his shoulders hunched like blades, and the sheer misery on his face took Corvo's breath away. “You fuckin’ win. I'm… I'm sorry.”

Gerome's attention shifted and he caught sight of Corvo standing in the shadows. He flinched and lowered his eyes. “Sorry,” he mumbled, and this time it sounded more like “goodbye”. Gerome Dashed away.

The Outsider jerked, turning towards Corvo. “Get to his room.  _ Now.” _

He nodded once, turned on his heel and bolted. 

*


	2. Chapter 2

It was just about dinner time, so he bypassed the communal spaces, not particularly wanting to run into anyone and try and explain what was going on. He  _ especially _ did not want to explain anything to Thomas who was already annoyed with him.

Gerome of course, was nowhere to be found, and Corvo jogged up the stairs towards the Whalers’ floor. Alarmed, Corvo switched over his eye augments, scanning the rooms in the royal quarters - everyone else was at dinner, and the maids knew better than to go through the Whalers’ rooms - so when he saw someone standing in Gerome’s corner bedroom, he knew he’d finally cornered him.

He tapped the comm in his left ear. “Tell me that’s him in his room?” he asked. 

<It is,> the Outsider said. <Go get him.>

Corvo heaved a sigh. “If he’ll even let me in the door at this point.” 

He didn’t bother to knock, not wanting to give Gerome time to escape, and pushed it open. He stepped through, making sure to keep his entire bulk in the frame. Gerome had Dashed past him enough times that he’d learned his lesson. 

Gerome didn’t turn around, still placing and folding his clothing and various blades into a small rucksack. Most of his clothes were already packed, his drawers hanging empty in his dresser. Corvo’s heart stopped. “You’re leaving?” he blurted out. 

Gerome flinched, shoulders hunching over his bag like a mantling bird, but he didn’t turn around.

Corvo felt the first strains of panic settle low in his belly and he took a step forward. “You can’t leave,” he protested blankly. “Why?” 

“I think it's been made pretty fuckin’ obvious that I ain't welcome anymore, Attano,” Gerome said, roughly.

“ _ Attano _ ?” Corvo repeated, shaking his head in denial. “I don’t even know where to start on how wrong you are right now, Gerome,” he said. “You’re not unwelcome, not at all - I’ve been trying to talk to you for  _ weeks _ .”

“I know,” he said, still keeping his back to Corvo and shoving various things into a bag. “You'll never say anythin’, 'cause you're a stand-up kinda guy, but I can't do this anymore. It's fuckin’  _ killin’  _ me.” Gerome's voice cracked halfway through.

Corvo inhaled slowly, trying to calm his racing heart. “I think,” he said carefully, “that you’re putting words in my mouth.” He closed the door behind him, stepping further into the room. “And if you’d let me try to explain, we can clear up some of this. Please? Talk to me?” He stepped closer to Gerome and touched his shoulder lightly. 

Gerome flinched away, and the knife he was holding clattered to the floor. They both stared at it in shock. Gerome  _ never _ dropped a blade.

“Get out,” Gerome rasped, not taking his eyes off the fallen knife.

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” Corvo said. “Even if you succeeded in convincing me you were okay, you have  _ never _ , not once in eleven years dropped a knife.” He tugged Gerome’s shoulder gently. “Come on, Gerome,” he said, making a concentrated effort to gentle his tone. “Talk to me.” 

Finally, Gerome looked up at Corvo, and he felt like his breath had been punched out of him at the sheer, resigned misery there. 

Corvo had spent the last three weeks thinking over what the Outsider had said. It hadn’t seemed  _ real _ until that moment, Gerome’s misery and agony stretched out between them. The world seemed to slow down around him as he imagined letting Gerome go, letting him walk out the door, out of the Tower and out of his life.

His breath caught hard, lungs squeezing so tightly that it was hard to breathe. 

Gerome was his best friend. That’s how it started with Jessamine, and how it started with the Outsider. It wasn’t that hard to tip over into love.

Corvo surged forward, clearing the space between them in half a step, pulling Gerome in and kissing him gently. 

Gerome made a choked noise and shoved Corvo away. “Fuck you,” he snarled, all miserable fury. “I don’t want your fuckin’  _ pity _ .”

“That’s not what this is,” Corvo said, keeping his voice even. “Have you  _ ever _ known me to pity anyone, let alone offer them a pity fuck? You know me better than that.”

Gerome curled in on himself. “Yeah, well. You know you can do better than some beat-up old thug from the gutter. An’ I ain’t gonna get between you an’ the Outsider, he made that real fuckin’ clear. So just… Leave me be.”

Corvo winced. “That’s… really not what was happening there,” he said. 

“Maybe not to  _ you _ ,” Gerome said, looking away. “But that was stakin’ a claim, if I ever saw it. I know the Outsider knew I was comin’. He coulda warned you, me, whatever. Well. Message fuckin’ received.”

“ _ No _ ,” Corvo said, stepping closer. “You could see us, but I bet you couldn’t hear us - well, hear him. He was  _ trying to tempt you in _ , his words, even. And, once you left, he kept going with it; giving me to you as a present. It has never,  _ ever _ been about staking a claim.” Corvo sighed, rubbing the back of his head. “The Outsider is a lot of things, Gerome. Cruel, yes, obnoxious, absolutely yes; but good with words, no. It was his way of showing you that you could come in.” 

Gerome gave him a skeptical look, but beneath it, a delicate, fragile hope was blooming. Then he visibly crushed it back down.

“I'm not… I can't be just a sometimes thin’,” he warned. “I ain't- I'm an all-in kinda guy. So if you're lookin’ for a fling to spice up your sex life…”

Corvo shook his head. “I know what sort of man you are,” he said gently. “I wouldn’t ask you to compromise that, not even for me.” He stepped in closer again, treating Gerome’s tense figure like a skittish hound. “Gerome,” he murmured, reaching out and taking both his hands. Corvo could feel him shaking. “A one-time fling is not what’s on offer here.”

Gerome's eyes squeezed shut and he took a shuddering breath. “An’...  _ He's _ fine with this?”

“He’s basically the one who sent me after you in the first place,” Corvo pointed out, sliding his hands from Gerome’s wrists to link their fingers together. “I’m the only one who gets to decide what I want - and unless we’ve both read you entirely wrong, here I am.” He breathed out slowly. “I’m here, if you want me. You won’t be getting between anything. He’s given his full permission, and blessing.”

Gerome uncurled a little, looking up at Corvo with wet eyes. “People don’t just- just fuckin’ share like that,” he said. “Not for long.”

Nudging the place in his mind where the Outsider was watching avidly, Corvo said, “You can ask him yourself,” and easily ceded control to him. 

Gerome startled when the Outsider appeared. “I expected you to go get your own body,” he said.

“This is quicker. He’s telling you the truth, you know.”

Gerome looked away. “He’s tellin’ what he  _ thinks _ is the truth, you mean.”

“Gerome.” The Outsider waited until Gerome looked back at him. “I have trusted you with some of my most dangerous secrets. I know, at times, it would have been easier on you to just drop them, but you kept them safe. If I can trust you with those, then I know I can trust you with  _ him _ .”

Gerome closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath. “Fuck,” he whispered, pulling his hands free and pressing them against his eyes. “Fuck you, you fuckin’ asshole.”

The Outsider radiated smugness and relief at Corvo. “You’re welcome. Do try to return him in the condition bought,” he said, and withdrew.

“What is with you fuckin’ smartasses and your goddamn one-liners?” Gerome mumbled, his voice cracking again as he clearly fought off sobs.

Corvo grinned. “Apparently,” he said dryly, “I have a type. Obnoxious smartasses who consistently drive me up one wall and down the other.” He took a small step forward so their bodies collided, wrapping his arms around Gerome’s shoulders. “You were going to _leave_ _me_ , you jackass,” he groused. 

“Thought I’d fucked it all up,” Gerome mumbled, leaning against Corvo. “Thought I’d never get to have this an’ worse, made thin’s weird between you an’ Pornbot.”

<Corvo, dump him in the ocean.>

Corvo laughed softly, wrapping his arms around Gerome’s waist. “The Outsider wants me to dump you in the ocean,” he reported. “But I think I’ll pass this time.”

Gerome mumbled something against Corvo’s jacket that he didn’t quite catch.

“Hey,” Corvo said, jostling him lightly. “This is real. I’m not going to disappear on you. Or change my mind.”

Gerome looked up and met his eyes, grey to brown. “Yeah?” The vulnerability in his expression made Corvo's heart ache.

“Yeah,” Corvo said. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” 

Gerome searched his face. He must have seen what he was looking for, because he grinned, bright and sunny. He caught Corvo’s face in his hands and kissed him. 

Unlike the first time, Corvo was expecting it, and he pulled Gerome closer, letting Gerome take the lead. Gerome made a punched-out noise of pure desire and grabbed onto Corvo’s hip with a bruising grip.

“Unless you wanna take this further,” he growled. “You should probably go back to your room so’s I can court you proper, dammit.”

Corvo tilted his head to one side, thinking it over. “You want to court me?” he asked, charmed. 

Gerome actually looked somewhat offended by that. “I’m a fuckin’ gentleman, ain’t I? I’d bring you flowers an’ shit. Nice things. Take you out for a nice meal. I ain’t just gonna fuck you an’ wander off.”

His grin widened. “You could fuck me then ring for dinner to be sent up and we could eat naked together in bed,” He said, half teasing, half serious.

Gerome groaned and let his head fall onto Corvo’s shoulder. “Fuckin’ menace,” he groused, and turned his head to bite at the curve of Corvo’s neck.

Corvo inhaled sharply, tightening his grip on Gerome’s waist. “You’re really not making a good case for me to step away right now,” he pointed out. “Besides,” he added. “Haven’t we had like… eleven years of courtship? You’ve brought me  _ guns _ . And knives.” 

Gerome looked up from his spirited attempt to leave a bruise on Corvo’s neck. “Nah, doesn’t count,” he said, puffing a cool breath over the sensitized skin. “I also bought Sparrow her first set of knives.” He pulled away to admire his handiwork. “I suppose you ain’t really a flowers kinda guy. How ‘bout real good whiskey?”

Corvo cleared his throat, swaying farther into Gerome’s space. “Whiskey is good. I don’t mind flowers either, for the record.” He pulled Gerome into a kiss, turning it as dirty and filthy as he knew how, ending it with a sharp bite on Gerome’s lower lip. “But if you’re serious, you should probably not bite me again,” he advised, ragged and gravel-voiced. 

“Nngh,” Gerome managed, looking a little unsteady. “Yeah, uh. Yeah.”

<I believe you broke him.>

Untangling himself from Gerome’s grip, Corvo grinned and took a step back. “Good,” he said, to both of them. He leaned in and stole another kiss, before taking a quick two-step back. Gerome watched him, hungrily.

“Guess I’ll unpack,” he said.

“You're lucky it was me and not Emily who found you packing,” he pointed out. “Other than the kissing.” 

Gerome blanched. “I… didn’t think about that. Shit.”

“Courting, huh?” Corvo asked, hand around the door knob. “Okay. Do your worst. And maybe don't leave the room for a few,” he added, raking Gerome’s frame up and down and settling on the tightness in his pants. 

Gerome rubbed the back of his neck. “I, uh. I might try to get some sleep,” he mumbled. “Mebbe it’ll actually take this time around.”

Corvo paused at the door, turning back around. “I know you just told me to go,” he said. “But… do you want me to stay? No funny business, I promise - just to sleep.”

Gerome looked up at him with desperate longing writ all over his face. “Are y’sure? he asked. “I don't wanna keep you if you got other shit to do.”

Corvo shook his head. “No, I saved all my work and everything else can keep until tomorrow morning. And if it can’t, the Outsider will field my calls for me.” He stepped back into the room, keeping his expression open. “If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t have offered.”

Gerome glanced at his bed, then at Corvo. He shifted awkwardly. “I, uh. I don't sleep so good these days,” he said, haltingly. “I get, uh, night terrors.”

Stepping up next to him and linking their fingers together, Corvo pressed a kiss to the back of his hand. “I used to, too,” he admitted. “Just after Coldridge. If you wake me up, that’s okay - I’d rather be woken up than let you suffer alone.”

Gerome pressed his face against Corvo's shoulder. “Sorry I'm such a fuckin’ mess,” he mumbled. “Let's just get in bed. You need anythin’ from your rooms?”

He shook his head. “No, I can sleep in my undershirt and pants, it’s not a big deal.” He pressed a kiss to Gerome’s temple and stepped away to unbutton his jacket. 

Gerome watched him remove his jacket and shirt, then seemed to shake himself out of a daze and pull his own shirt off in one quick motion. His locket thumped back down into its space between too-prominent ribs.

Corvo reached out and touched his side, rubbing the backs of his fingers over Gerome’s skin. “Should I go get dinner?” he asked, instead of asking all the obvious questions.

“Ain't hungry,” Gerome said. “Jus’... Real fuckin’ tired, PB. I ain't slept properly in fuckin’ months.” He was beginning to slur his words, the adrenaline leaving his system and leaving him visibly drooping.

Corvo nodded, deciding to tackle the food issue in the morning. He hooked his fingers into Gerome’s pants, tugging him closer to the bed. Corvo sat, pulling Gerome with him. “Then come sleep with me,” he said. “Tonight, and every night, if you want.” 

Gerome shuddered and curled close. “Yeah,” he rasped. “Yeah, I do want.” He clenched a fist in Corvo's undershirt, clinging.

Wrapping his arms around Gerome, Corvo pulled the covers up over them, tucking the blankets around them. “Every night, then,” he murmured, kissing the top of Gerome’s head.

Gerome sighed, clearly on the edge of sleep. “Really hope this ain't another hallucination,” he mumbled, slipping into unconsciousness.

Corvo tightened his grip and draped himself over Gerome. “Outsider,” he murmured. “Make sure to hold all our calls unless it’s Emily and an emergency until he wakes up naturally tomorrow, please.”

<I have already changed your voicemail settings,> he said. <Everything is being held until tomorrow. Take care of him, my Host.>

“I will,” Corvo promised. “Good night,  _ amante _ ,” he murmured, letting the bed, the warmth, and Gerome’s even breathing soothe him into sleep.

*

Corvo woke slowly, overwarm and plastered against someone. He blinked, stretching and found himself unable to move. Gerome had curled up against him, one leg thrown over Corvo's hip, one arm under Corvo’s neck, the other draped across his chest. 

He was completely and totally pinned.

Craning his head to look at the clock, it was verging on nine, and they had officially missed breakfast. Corvo turned in Gerome's arms so they were facing each other and ran his hand over Gerome’s back, trying to gently coax him to let go.

“Mnrrr,” Gerome grumbled, tightening his grip. “F’kof.”

Corvo chuckled. “ _ Caro, _ I need to go to the bathroom and that'll be much easier if you let me go.”

Gerome blinked blearily at him, squinting a little. “C’vo?”

“You inviting any other men into your bed?” Corvo teased him gently. 

Gerome blinked at him for a few moments longer before he seemed to get his brain in working order. He disentangled himself from Corvo and rolled onto his back.

“Wh’ ti’ izzit?” he mumbled, flinging his tattooed arm over his eyes.

“Nine,” Corvo answered, climbing out of bed. “But don't panic, I had the Outsider hold all our calls, meetings and duties until we decided to emerge. No one should be looking for us just yet.” He brushed his fingers over Gerome’s side gently. “Hold that thought, I'll be right back.”

He moved over to the bathroom to use it - he'd been in bed since six, or just after. Looking in the mirror showed him with a singular lack of bags under his eyes for once; apparently he should sleep for fifteen hours straight more often. 

Once he had used the bathroom and washed his face and hands, he came back out to look Gerome over.  

Gerome was now sprawled over the bed, the blankets bunched up around his hips. He still had an arm covering his eyes.

“Like what y’see, PB?” he drawled without moving. His lips curved up in a crooked grin.

Corvo grinned. “I do, in fact,” he replied in the same tone. He crossed the room and sat back on the edge of the bed. “Only I seem to have lost my spot.”

Gerome dropped the arm from his face and grabbed the front of Corvo's undershirt and tugged him down for a kiss.

Corvo leaned into the kiss, one hand braced against the wall, the other hooked around the back of Gerome's neck. He let himself get lost in the easy intimacy of the embrace, and pulled away just long enough to stretch out against Gerome’s side. “How're you feeling?” he murmured against Gerome's cheek, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

“Groggy as fuck,” Gerome answered bluntly. “An’ I should probably beg some food off the chefs.” 

Corvo tapped his comm unit. “ _ Amante _ , can you put in an order of Gerome's favourites and mine and tell the chef it's for a late brunch meeting? If he fusses, he can deal with me personally, but otherwise just tell him to send it to Lord Burton’s flat with Morgan, please.”

Gerome opened an eye to give him a flat look. “Yer feedin’ the fuckin’ rumour mill by orderin’  _ both _ our favourites,” he warned.

<I am also amending Gerome's order to be a higher calorie count,> the Outsider murmured in his ear.

Corvo sent the Outsider a mental thank you, before looking at Gerome steadily. “I wasn't aware we had anything to hide,” he said slowly. 

Gerome unsuccessfully tried to hide the surprise and relief that flashed over his face. “You might when th’ Twins get wind of it,” he warned with a crooked grin.

Corvo shook his head, ignoring Gerome's attempt at changing the subject. “Let me be very clear, okay?” he said gently. “ _ I _ have nothing to hide. Not from the Twins - who don't worry me - nor from anyone else. If  _ you _ want this to remain between the three of us, then you should probably tell me now, as I have no intentions of pretending this doesn't exist.”

Gerome gaped at him. “I, uh… yeah, okay. I'm, um, good with that,” he mumbled, flushing. Then he shook himself and grinned, bright and sunny. “Good, you fuckin’ feelin's ninja.”

Rolling his eyes, Corvo nudged him. “You seemed concerned. You're not going to be my dirty little secret.” He paused for a second. “As long as you're alright with the Outsider. We're something of a package deal.”

Gerome flapped a hand. “Th’ Outsider an’ me are cool,” he said. “I just don't wanna fuck him.”

<I am afraid I would end up breaking you in half, Burton,> the Outsider retorted.

“You can fuckin’ try.”

“I rather recommend it, actually,” Corvo murmured with a smirk. Gerome wrinkled his nose at Corvo.

<Shall I replay the time I threw you in the ocean?>

“Ah, fuck you, Pornbot,” Gerome grumbled.

<But I thought you  _ didn't _ want to do that,> the Outsider teased. <Shall I go fetch my body, then?>

Gerome blanched.

Corvo grinned. “If it's not his style,” he said, “He could always watch.”

Gerome made a face like he was going to protest, then visibly rethought it. “...Huh,” he said, staring into space.

Amused, Corvo leaned forward and kissed the slack look off Gerome’s face. “The Outsider likes having an audience,” he murmured like a secret. “And,” he added, tilting his head down to kiss the side of Gerome's neck, “So do I.”

“Mm,” Gerome hummed. “Someone who looks as good as you deserves an audience.” He rolled over, propping himself up over Corvo. “I wanna show you off,” he growled.

Corvo leaned back, shifting underneath Gerome. “Well,” he said, a laugh caught behind his teeth, “I do come with an audience built in.”

Gerome waved that off. “Not just fuckin’,” he explained. “I wanna take you out on dates an’ shit. Show you off that way, too. I tol’ you. I wanna fuckin’ court you proper.” 

Grinning, Corvo nodded. “I remember. I didn't tell you  _ no _ ,” he added. “Take me out, it'll be fun.”

Gerome leaned in, kissing Corvo deeply, and withdrawing with a nip at his lips. “Good,” he growled. “‘Cause I wanna see everyone else's faces when they see I got  _ you _ on my arm.”

That prompted a self-deprecating nose wrinkle. “You seem very certain I'm a catch,” he murmured, kissing Gerome gentle. “Lemme up a sec, Morgan's coming down the hall.”

He slipped Gerome’s grip and tugged on the closest shirt, before meeting the kitchen staff outside Gerome’s door. “Thank you,” he said, and she smirked at him. “Try to keep the rumours to a minimum?” he requested. “I'd like to eat in peace.”

She snorted. “Sure, Lord Protector. Enjoy your  _ meeting _ ,” she said with heavy sarcasm, leaving him with the cart of food.

“Well if you wanted to keep anything secret,” Corvo said, re-entering the flat, “Our last chance just left. Morgan is an incurable gossip. The whole Tower will know in ten minutes that you're my sweetheart.”

“'Sweetheart’, huh?” Gerome said with a pleased grin.

“Mm,” Corvo agreed, pushing the cart up to the edge of the bed and tugging off his wrinkled shirt. “Sweetheart, partner, lover.”

Gerome's grin grew. “Yeah,” he said, beaming up at Corvo. “Y’know that stupid fuckin’ song’s gonna get a fuckin’ revival?”

Corvo plated out their late breakfast and placed it in front of Gerome. “What stupid song?” he asked.

“The one the Twins came up with,” Gerome explained through a mouthful of danish.

“... That was about  _ us _ ?” Corvo demanded.

“You never heard them?” Gerome asked, surprised.

Corvo shook his head. “I didn't even know it had lyrics; I just liked the tune!” He covered his eyes with one hand. “Well. I'll do what I can to mitigate their… enthusiasm.”

“Even  _ Em _ knew the fuckin’ tune,” Gerome grumbled, stuffing the rest of the pastry into his mouth. He reached for another.

Corvo rolled his eyes. “Of course she did.” He started on his own pastry, sliding the length of his leg against Gerome’s. “If it doesn't bother you, then it doesn't bother me,” he decided. “Even if the Twins are ridiculous.”

Gerome reached over and put half of a pastry onto Corvo's plate with forced nonchalance.

In return, Corvo opened up the plate warmer full of bacon and flatbread pancakes, piling an even amount on each of their plates, before taking the half of pastry and finishing it in two bites. “Apparently the chef likes you more than me,” he said. “I usually only get some toast when I order breakfast for myself.”

“It's 'cause I speak his language,” Gerome said, dousing his pancakes in syrup.

Corvo frowned at him. “Chef is Serkonan.”

Gerome grinned. “An’ I got contacts to smuggle in his favourite brand of Amalittol.”

“... Amaretto?”

“Yeah, that one,” Gerome said, shoving half a pancake into his mouth.

Corvo shook his head. “I bow to your superior wisdom,” he said, digging into his own pancakes, spreading jam over them.

“'S all about knowing the ways of the common folk,” Gerome drawled sagely.

Corvo smirked at him. “And how do I get in good with you, hm?” he asked. 

Gerome flushed, but gave him an arch look.

“I dunno,” he said. “Why don't you try some thin’s an’ find out?”

“I could make some guesses,” Corvo said. “I've known you eleven years, that means I get to cheat.” He finished his plate, giving Gerome a contemplative look. “Let me see… must love children,” he said, counting on his fingers. “Dogs, too. Be smart and quick, and hitting you with something hard helps too… anything to do with knives is a plus as well.” He grinned. “Am I close?”

Gerome grinned back. “Must be tall, an’ sexy. Bein’ Serkonan helps, too,” he added with a wink.

Corvo made a face. “So… Daud?” he guessed, stifling a smirk.

Gerome recoiled in horror. “ _ Fuck, no _ .”

“The Twins then?” Corvo shot back, not bothering to hide his grin.

Gerome gave him an unimpressed look. “Yer a shit, PB.”

Corvo's grin widened and he nodded. “Absolutely,” he said. He leaned over the trays and kissed the syrup off the corner of Gerome's mouth. “For some reason, you want me anyway.”

“Well,” Gerome drawled, a sly expression crossing his face. “You got great ass-ets.” He reached around and goosed Corvo.

Corvo bit Gerome’s lower lip in retaliation. “Don't start something you can't finish, Gerome,” he murmured, pushing his tray into the cart with one hand and trailing his fingers down Gerome’s side with the other. 

Gerome growled and caught the back of Corvo's head, pulling him forward into a hungry kiss.

Corvo slid forward, straddling Gerome's lap, pushing their empty plates aside. He wrapped his arms around Gerome's shoulders, deepening their kiss. He poured every filthy thought, every rejected offer, every pointed look into this kiss, taking Gerome apart with his hands and mouth. 

Gerome moaned into the kiss, his hips twitching up, helplessly. He dropped his head to Corvo's neck, biting and sucking a mark there. “Ah,” he said, reluctantly pulling away. “We got our jobs to do.”

“They can handle themselves for a little longer,” Corvo replied, nipping the side of Gerome's neck. “Any emergencies would have come through already.”

Gerome groaned. “No, I'm gonna take you out on at least one date before I fuck you.” Gerome whined as Corvo rolled his hips down against Gerome's erection.  “Lemme treat you th’ way you deserve.”

Corvo pulled back to look him in the eye. “I'm not certain you realize how long I've wanted to get my hands on you,” he admitted. “But if you really want, I'll leave you to do your job.”

Gerome groaned. “I'm gonna fuckin’ regret sayin’ this, but yeah. I wanna treat you nice.”

Corvo laughed softly. “At the risk of sounding cliché,” he said, pressing in for another kiss, “But you could treat me  _ any way _ , and I wouldn't mind in the slightest.”

“Ngh,” Gerome groaned. “Get. I got plans to make.”  

He looked up, and all flirtation dropped from his face. “I’ll still be here. I promise.”

Corvo nodded. “I'm holding you to that,” he said, darting in for one last kiss. “I'll see you at lunch.” He pushed away, gathering his clothes from the floor and tugging them on haphazardly. He grinned down at Gerome. “You might not want to leave for a bit,” he said slyly, dragging his eyes down Gerome's frame. “Unless you want to be a public menace.”

“I'm already a public menace,” Gerome drawled. “But I get your fuckin’ point.”

“Well,” Corvo said lightly, “If  _ I'm  _ not allowed to get my mouth on you yet, certainly no one else should see you.”

Gerome went crimson. “Out,” he yelped, covering his face.

Corvo laughed, and said, “Think of me!” as he opened the door.

Gerome made a muffled sound of complete mortification, and glared at Corvo. 

Making an unapologetic face, Corvo dragged his eyes up and down Gerome again, still leaning in the door. “If it makes you feel better,” he drawled, “I'll be thinking of you.”

“I regret everythin',” Gerome mumbled. Then he surged up and started physically ushering Corvo out the door. “Gonna fuckin’ kill me, PB.”

“But what a way to go,” Corvo said, stealing another kiss. “See you later.” He Dashed off heading for the elevator up to his own floor. 

As soon as he was safely locked in, he slumped against the door. “That was almost a disaster,” he murmured, unwilling to think of how close he'd come to losing Gerome. “He's still in there right?” he asked the Outsider on reflex.

<Indeed he is, my Host,> the Outsider said, smug. <Would you like the proof?>

“Sure,” Corvo answered, already shucking his pants. The mark on his neck throbbed dully and it was impossible to ignore the pulse of his cock in his clothing so Corvo did the only sane thing. He moved over to his bed and the Outsider tuned the terminal there to Gerome’s video feed.

Gerome had knocked his rucksack to the floor, the long lines of his body naked and on the bed. “Shit,” Corvo said, twitching. 

The Gerome in the camera view writhed upwards, his hips rolling in a fluid spiral as he fucked into his own fist, the tendons in his neck standing out. “ _ Shit, fuck, Corvo, yes _ ,” he breathed out, just loud enough to be heard.

Corvo sat up on the bed. “Outsider, can you connect to his comm unit?”

<Of course, my Host,> the Outsider said slyly. <You wish to speak to him?>

“Not exactly,” Corvo said. “You’ll know when to start.”

His eyes on Gerome’s writhing form, Corvo leaned back against the pillows and fisted himself once, getting a feel for Gerome’s frantic rhythm. He reached into the bedside drawer, pulling out his tube of slick, getting his fingers of his left hand slick. 

The punched-out gasp he made when he slipped a finger into himself was loud, and Gerome paused, looking up at the ceiling. Corvo whined a little, stretching himself with another finger before starting up a slowly teasing rhythm on his cock. 

He didn’t hold back, knowing that Gerome was listening intently, letting every whimper, keen and whine fall out of his mouth, as he stroked himself. 

After a few seconds of that, Gerome shuddered, and brought both his hands around, fisting himself in time to Corvo’s panting whines. 

Corvo twisted his fingers roughly, and found the bundle of nerves inside of himself, stroking there. “Fuck,” he burst out, surprised, and Gerome’s answering swear only made him harder. He wasn’t going to last long, not with watching Gerome’s long-fingered hands on himself, and it wasn’t hard to imagine their roles reversed.

<Call his name, my Host,> the Outsider murmured, as Corvo drove his fingers against the nerves inside of himself.

“Fuck, fuck,  _ fuck, please _ ,” Corvo chanted, tightening his fist around the head of his cock and rubbing his thumb there. Orgasm slammed into him like a bullet train, tearing Gerome’s name from his throat in a loud cry he couldn’t have held back if he tried.

Gerome, in the vid screen, jerked up hard, coming himself, and the Outsider turned off the terminal screen. <Good boy,> he said quietly, slicking an unseen touch up Corvo’s softening cock.

Corvo whined a little, hips jerking, but the Outsider seemed content to press a barely-there invisible kiss against his lips, letting him catch his breath. 

“Bet Gerome is regretting his courting ideas now,” Corvo murmured. 

The Outsider fizzed a laugh. <He is, in fact, complaining about that at this very moment,> he agreed. <Go shower, my Host.>

Grumbling, Corvo rolled off the bed, shedding clothing and heading to the bathroom. He'd need to check in with Gerome on the video, but if he hadn't gotten a message already, it could probably wait. 

He’d talk to him when he met Gerome for lunch.

After his shower, Corvo dressed in some of his finer uniforms, choosing the sharply smart cut ones that he usually avoided. He wasn't above a little cheating. 

“Hey, Outsider,” Corvo asked, as he laced up his boots, “I probably ought to have asked before, but, you didn’t illicitly send me Gerome’s video, did you?” 

<He wanted to make you two even,> the Outsider said. <Since, and I quote, “You two gave me a show, so I wanna return the fuckin’ favour.”>

Corvo snorted, not really all that surprised. “Bet he was surprised when I retaliated,” he mused. “Though now we’ll have to come up with something better together,” he added.

<I will begin calculating the best scenarios to use.>

“Let me know what you come up with,” Corvo said. “How awkward do you think he’s going to be this afternoon?” he asked.

<On a scale of one to ten? At least a twelve.> The Outsider sounded deeply amused.

“This is going to be an awfully interesting meal, I can already tell,” Corvo said. He Dashed over to the elevator and punched in the code to go the private dining room for the royal family. It was later than normal, so if he had to hazard a guess he’d figure that most of the unruly group was there. 

When the door opened with a hydraulic hiss, Corvo was immediately subjected to several scrutinizing stares. The Twins, Alexi, and Emily all were eyeing him narrowly, while the other Whalers were clearly grinning, and avoiding his gaze.

Gerome was sitting at the table, hiding his face behind his hands. 

“Do I want to know?” he asked the room at large.

“Glad you’re here!” Rulfio crowed. “Rin, Rin, go get it!”

Rinaldo rushed from the room, and Rulfio went over to Corvo and yanked him into the room properly, bringing him over across from where Gerome was sitting. Corvo let Rulfio push him down into a chair, merely lifting an eyebrow at the treatment. 

“Do I want to know?” he asked Gerome. 

Before Gerome had a chance to answer - since he was still not looking at Corvo - Rinaldo pushed Daud into the room. That was strange in and of itself, as Daud tended to avoiding group gatherings and the resigned expression on his face made Corvo even more curious.

Then Rinaldo ducked back around the door and pulled out a serving cart with what looked like a cake sitting on it. He pushed it over to where Corvo and Gerome were sitting and placed it on the table with a flourish and a low bow. “Congratulations,” the Twins chorused. “Many happy returns, and we wish you all the happiness in the world!” 

“Did you two practice that?” Corvo asked, amused. 

“Yes!” they said again, and pushed the cake closer. 

“Oh my god,” Gerome whispered, in tones of utmost horror.

Corvo was very glad he hadn’t poured any water or juice, because it would have ended up all over the cake in front of them, as he noticed the contents of decorations on the cake. 

**CONGRATS ON THE SEX** , the cake declared in rainbow icing. There was a lot of glitter, mostly coming from the lovingly-piped icing penises.

“You know,” Corvo said slowly, “I don’t know why I’m so surprised, but I am.” 

“Cedric!” Alexi called. “We’re all here now, you can’t keep it a secret anymore, who won the bet?” She threw a balled up napkin at his head, which he smoothly ducked. 

He pulled out a small tablet, scrolling through it with a stylus. “Um,” he said, and looked up at the group with wide eyes. “... Daud.” 

“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” Gerome lifted his head from his hands and stared at Daud. “ _ You _ bet on my sex life? You. I mean, these assholes I expected, but…  _ you _ ?!”

Daud shrugged one shoulder, accepting the coin transfer chit from Cedric. “Why not?” he asked. “I apparently know you better than the rest of them do.” He secreted the chit away and smirked slyly. “I knew it would take a tragedy to get you open your fat mouth, Burton. It was a late bet, but worth it to see the look on your face.”

“I fuckin’ hate you all.”

Corvo smirked, nudging him with his foot under the table. “Lies,” he said lightly. “ _ Slanderous _ lies.”

Gerome glared at him from the corner of his eye. “Shuddup an’ eat your dick cake.” His lips kept twitching up in smile, giving the lie to his grumpy tone.

“Only if you have a piece too,” Corvo shot back. “It’s also your dick cake.” He snorted even as the words came out of his mouth. “Boys,” he said, addressing the Twins, “You can start expecting retaliation  _ any  _ day now.”

Rinaldo grinned. “You’ve got nothing on us, Attano,” he drawled.

Corvo laughed. “I have an omnipotent AI who likes causing shit more than anyone in this room rolled together. You’d be surprised. I’d start sleeping with one eye open, were I you.”

Starting to look a little nervous Rinaldo glanced at the ceiling where the Tower sensors were. “... The Outsider wouldn’t do that to us, would he?” he asked.

“Outsider?” Corvo prompted. 

<I have stockpiled a respectable amount of blackmail material on you two,> the Outsider said over the speakers. <And I should remind you I have a body now. The possibilities are endless.>

Rinaldo and Rulfio both blanched, and Corvo grinned. “As I said,” he repeated. “One eye. Sleep with it open. Now cut this ridiculous cake and start serving, it can be the start of your penance for being nosy busybodies.” 

Once the Twins had portioned out the cake and served everyone - Emily and Alexi got the only two pieces that didn’t have penises drawn on them, he noticed - Corvo nudged Gerome again, lifting an eyebrow in an unspoken question. “Okay?” he asked.

Gerome let off suspiciously prodding the cake and glanced over at him. “You’re gonna let me in on the revenge, PB,” he warned. “I’m gonna put glitter on everythin’ they love. ‘Cept Mayhew.”

“Of course,” Corvo said. “Wouldn’t do it without you.” 

Gerome smiled, a small genuine smile. Then he turned back to the cake. “Think they put somethin’ in it?”

“They wouldn’t have given it to Emily or Alexi if they had,” Corvo decided, and took a bite. It was too sweet, but nothing jumped out at him as dangerous - and woe to them if they had decided to slip him something, his tolerance for drug use had lowered considerably since Martin’s fateful whiskey. He shrugged at Gerome and took another bite. “I think they doubled the chocolate and sugar intake for the recipe,” he said, washing down a slightly sticky bite of melted caramel and chocolate with his coffee. “But it’s not laced, as far as I can tell.”

Gerome took a bite. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”   
“It’s to sweeten you up, old man,” one of the Twins yelled.

Two could play that game, Corvo decided leaning back in his chair to catch their eye. He tipped them a wink and said, “He’s plenty sweet, I promise.” 

“Oh my god,” Gerome muttered, going blotchy amidst catcalls from the rest of the Whalers.

Rulfio looked a little horror-stricken at the implication while Rinaldo choked on his coffee. “We didn’t really need to know that,” he whined.

“Then don’t start things you can’t finish,” Corvo said, taking another bite of cake. 

“Dad,” Emily muttered, rubbing her forehead. “I’m literally right here.”

“Sorry, Em,” Corvo said, genuinely apologetic. “You’re the one who wanted family breakfasts.”

She pulled a face. “I changed my mind!”

“Are you lot done teasing poor Gerome?” Corvo challenged the Twins and rest of the assorted Whalers.

Sheepishly they nodded, still looking disturbed. “For now,” Rulfio muttered.

Calla crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at Corvo. “Never,” she said. “And don’t you try to embarrass me, boyo. Eight years on a ship with a crew of men and there’s little that can shock me. Gerome, night on the town while the pups are in bed?”

Gerome nodded, his mouth too full of cake to answer, and gave her a thumbs up.

“Don’t get arrested please,” Corvo requested. “I don’t want to have to explain that to… well, anyone, really.”

“When’s the last time we got caught?” Calla challenged. Gerome shook his head at her.

Corvo sighed, amused. “Cal,  _ cara _ , really. Just because the guard didn’t come bust you doesn’t mean they weren’t  _ called _ . I’ve been intercepting those calls for  _ years _ .” He tipped his head toward the Tower sensors. “Well, the Outsider has, but that’s essentially the same thing, no?”

<True,> the Outsider said, then switched to their private channel. <Gerome’s heart rate picked up when you spoke Serkonan, my Host. He is showing signs of arousal.>

“And,” Corvo added, not verbally acknowledging the Outsider, “since I read all the reports from  _ la policia _ in Serkonos,  _ cara _ , and at least half of them were about you two even if they weren’t by name, I’m relatively certain that when you two start drinking, things just… happen.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “Am I wrong,  _ cara _ ?” 

Calla affected a look of innocence. “The goat was merely a side-effect,” she declared. Gerome muttered something about that ‘goddamn goat’ and hid his face again. “I take full responsibility for the dancers, though. That was a brilliant idea.”

Corvo leaned his chin on his fist, tilting his head toward Calla. “Tell me,  _ cara _ ,” he said, “have you ever gotten Gerome to dance because I need that footage immediately.” 

Calla grinned. “Can’t. We have a pact.”

“I got too much blackmail material on her for her to spill on me, an’ vice versa,” Gerome added.

Grinning, Corvo thought for a second. “Your pact is that neither of you can spill on each other?” he asked, waiting for their nods. “Oh good. Sorry,  _ caro _ ,” he said to Gerome. “Outsider? Can I have that footage on my personal terminal, please?” 

“Oh,  _ fuck _ no,” Gerome yelped. Calla started cackling.

<Of course, my Host,> the Outsider said over the speakers.

“Thank you,” he said, grin widening. “I’m really sorry,  _ caro _ , but there’s no way I can let that one pass me by.” He finished his cake, deftly avoiding Gerome’s kick under the table. “Now, if you don’t mind,” he said to the room at large, “I have some blackmail material to watch and paperwork to finish. You all have jobs, and you’re probably late to them. Scoot.” 

He pressed a kiss to the top of Emily’s head on his way past her, stepping into the elevator that opened as he drew close enough to it. “Outsider, send Gerome a private message for me? Tell him he’s welcome to come convince me not to open that file on my terminal.”

A message popped up shortly after.  _ c u once im free of these assholes. _

Once Corvo arrived at his office, he opened the hacked file that the Outsider had left for him in his terminal, quickly backing it up into the ‘Net, and dropping it on a datastick. “Thanks,” he said to the Outsider again. “I appreciate you playing along.”

<Where else am I expected to get my entertainment? Your life is better than those novels.>

Corvo sighed. “Those novels are terrible,” he said for the nth time. “Of  _ course _ my life is better than they are.” 

<I expect to see ravishing soon.>

“I hate that word,” Corvo muttered. “And we’re… taking it slow. Don’t you start in on him with your ravishing business. I’m perfectly content to wait.” 

<I think he believes he has something to prove,> the Outsider mused. <I am unsure whether it’s the authenticity of his feelings, or how he believes you deserve to be treated.> The Outsider paused, and Corvo knew he was in one of his mischievous moods. <Maybe he’s just shy.>

He snorted. “I really doubt that after earlier,” he said. “Be nice,” he added. “You worked too hard to get me to open my eyes to frighten him off now.”

<I’m always nice.>

“After eleven years, I can happily disagree,” Corvo said, smirking. “Let me know when Gerome comes up?” he asked, turning to one of his unfinished reports.

<Of course,> the Outsider said. <He’s on his way now.>

Corvo filled out the last few paragraphs of his report to Alexi on the state of the Watch before Gerome burst through the door. “Long time, no see,  _ caro _ ,” Corvo said, not looking up.

“ _ Did you look at it yet?” _

Looking up and affecting an innocent expression, he asked, “Look at what, exactly?”

Gerome stormed over to the desk and spun Corvo’s chair around. “You know what I’m talkin’ about, you shit,” he growled, leaning over Corvo.

Corvo laughed, hooking his fingers in Gerome’s shirt, tugging him down for a quick kiss. “Relax,  _ caro _ , I didn’t watch it.”

“Well,” Gerome floundered. “Good.”

“... Yet,” Corvo added.

“Outsider, I fuckin’ blame you for this,” Gerome grumbled. “Bet he wasn’t nearly as much of a shit as he is now.”

<He taught me everything I know,> the Outsider said, amused. Gerome smirked down at Corvo, then sobered.

“Listen,” he said, straightening  so that he wasn’t looming over Corvo. “About earlier… Uh, you okay? I figured Pornbot knew you best, in, uh,  _ that _ kinda situation, but I didn’t check in.”

Fond, Corvo nodded. “It was unexpected, but not unwanted, and now you realize we have to up the ante?” 

“Oh, fuck me,” Gerome muttered, rubbing his face. “Fine. Do whatever your weirdly kinky heart wants.”

Corvo leaned back in his seat. “Is this a boundary?” he asked frankly. “I don't want to make you uncomfortable, and I'd rather we hash it out together,  _ caro.” _

“Huh?” Gerome said, blinking down at Corvo. “Nah. We're both competitive shits, though, so I figured I'd cut out the one-uppin’ before it gets outta fuckin’ hand. Remember the Prank Wars, PB.”

“Fondly, yes,” Corvo said, amused. “This doesn't have to be a competition, though you do have a spectacular blush.” He tugged Gerome down for a kiss. “Though I can't refute the kink comment, that's pretty true.”

“Yeah, I know. Especially after I overheard your conversation with Pornbot that first time in the old HQ.” Gerome smirked fondly at the memory. “That was fuckin’ hilarious.”

Instead of rising to the bait, Corvo lifted his eyebrow. “You do know that all of that now applies to  _ you _ ,  _ caro _ ?”

Gerome flushed. “Okay, what the fuck does ‘caro’ mean? You keep callin’ me that.”

“It means ‘my dear’,” Corvo admitted. “If it bothers you, I can stop.”

“No,” Gerome protested quickly. “Nah, that’s fine. It’s fine.”

Corvo raised both eyebrows at him. “I could pick a different one, if it suits you. Serkonans love their endearments, I have a list I could choose from.”

“It’s, um, fine. So, about those new security measures,” Gerome said, rather desperately.

He grinned. “Oh, is that what we’re talking about now,  _ innamorato? _ ” Corvo asked, mildly. “I have the reports right here.” He patted his terminal. “Anything you might like to add?”

“Nngh.”

“Mostly,” Corvo said, still grinning, “the security measures seem to be annoying poor Captain Mayhew, but they’ve had some success clearing out the Hatters. Do you have any notes for her,  _ tesoro _ ?”

Gerome closed his eyes and took a calming breath. “Pornbot tattled, didn’t he.”

“He might have mentioned it,” Corvo admitted without shame. “But really even if he hadn’t, you’re hardly subtle.  _ Caro. _ ” 

“Fuckin’ Void.” Gerome pinched the bridge of his nose. “Alright, unlike you, I got actual shit to do today. Shit that’s not flirtin’ with an attractive older man.”

Corvo grinned. “I could do both, if pressed.” He spun his chair back around, picking up his reports. “But if you must, I’ll see you later.”

“I’ll press  _ you _ ,” Gerome muttered under his breath. Then, louder, “I promise to try to keep Cal decent.”

“I’m not as worried about it as you think,” Corvo said, chuckling. “Feel free to stop by my rooms when you get back though.” He tilted his head just enough to see Gerome out of the corner of his eye. “ _ Ho dei piani per te stasera, tesoro _ ,” he added, and winked. 

Gerome tripped and stumbled into the doorframe.

“You’re a fuckin’ menace, PB,” he growled. “I’m gonna find a way to get you back for that.”

Corvo grinned wider, waiting for Gerome to get through the door before he called back, “ _ Sei felice di provare, amo.” _

There was a thump from the other room, accompanied by a stream of cursing.

“I should probably feel bad about that,” Corvo said. 

<He  _ did _ trip over his own feet and fall headfirst into the elevator,> the Outsider mused. <But he’s fine. It’s good for him.>

“Uh huh,” Corvo agreed dubiously. “Make sure their exploits stay out of the media tonight, would you?”

<I always do, my Host,> the Outsider said. <Would you like the highlights when they’re done?>

“Yes, please.”

*

He was just getting into bed when his comm unit exploded with messages and multimedia texts. Corvo gazed at it apprehensively. “Oh dear,” he said.

_ misss  u _

_ cal does the dancin _

{Video file included}   
_ i think cal took a pic of me plz delete _

_ I FUKED UP _

[Blurry image of a door]

_ Thx 4 not shooting me down whn i kissed u _

_ Ur hot face* _

Corvo snorted, dropping his comm unit on the bed. “Oh dear,” he repeated, snickering. It buzzed again, multiple times, and he picked it up gingerly. “I think I encouraged something bad.”

He flipped it open, finding just a series of picture messages from Calla. The first one was just a smeared image of a floor somewhere, but the next several were definitely not. The second image was of Gerome, his tie loose around his neck, grinning crookedly at Calla. The third, was of a dressing room door, Gerome’s scuffed-up boots obvious in the gap.

The fourth was a close up of Calla’s face as she grinned widely, and it was captioned, “hold on to your tits, LP!!” 

The fifth made him drop his comm unit again, as he covered his face with one hand. “Oh my  _ God _ ,” he muttered. Gerome stood posed in the doorframe of the changing room, dressed in a soft pink lingerie piece, though it had obviously been meant for a woman. It clashed terribly with his tattoo sleeve and his combat boots, but he looked very proud of himself in the picture. 

Corvo typed back,  _ he doesn’t know you took that, does he? _ To Calla before saving the first picture of Gerome as his contact photo in his unit.

_ He told me to _ , Calla responded.  _ Checking out now tho cu soon. Maybe unlock your door. _

Dragging himself out of bed, Corvo went to his door and unlocked it, then filled the pitcher next to his bed will cold water from the tap. He had a feeling Gerome was going to need some of that. 

He got a few more messages from Calla as she detailed their return to the Tower, and then lastly a warning that Gerome was incoming.

Corvo heard him before he saw him. Gerome was humming the song the Twins had made up, horribly off-key. There was some fumbling at the door, then Gerome stumbled in.

“Oh, shit,” Gerome whispered loudly, drink thickening his accent. “Yer sleepin’. Sorry.”

Amused, Corvo shook his head. “No, just relaxing. I hadn’t gone to bed yet, you’re not disturbing me.”

Gerome grinned and stepping into the room with the exaggerated care of the very drunk. “I kept Cal decent,” he bragged, ambling over to the bed. “Didn’ hafta give her my shirt or anythin’.”

“Judging by some of those messages I got, she did a lovely job of encouraging  _ you _ , though,  _ caro _ ,” Corvo said, laughing at him gently.

Gerome flashed Corvo a boyish grin. “Love it when y’talk Serkonan,” he told Corvo, fumbling with his boots. He managed to wrest them off of his feet and promptly curled around Corvo. “Y’smell nice.”

Corvo pulled at the blankets until they were out from under Gerome’s weight, tossing them over him and sliding down onto the bed so they were pressed together under the covers. “You smell like very expensive whiskey,” he said, running his fingers through Gerome’s mussed hair. 

“Yeah, yeah, shit taste in beer, ‘spensive taste in whiskey.” Gerome squirmed until he was cuddled up close to Corvo. “...shit, lost my hair tie.”

“There are several in my bathroom that you can borrow in the morning,” Corvo told him. “I left you water on the bedside table too,” he added. 

Gerome made a considering noise and rolled over enough to grab the glass and drink from it. Then he immediately went back to imitating a baby sloth. 

“You sent some… interesting messages,” Corvo said, amused. “You’re probably going to die a little in the morning if you look them over.”

“‘S fine,” Gerome mumbled. “Drunk Gerome says what Sober Gerome thinks. Or somethin’. I dunno. Go t’sleep.”

“Sober Gerome can barely look me in the eye when I speak Serkonan,” Corvo pointed out. “My alarm is going to go off too early, just a warning.” He kissed Gerome’s forehead, then leaned over and turned off the bedside light. “Good night,  _ caro. _ ”

“‘Night, DILF. Wait, no. Pretend you didn’t hear that.”

Corvo, who had been on the edge of laughter since Gerome had stumbled into the room, lost the battle and laughed until his sides hurt while Gerome tried to cover his mouth with his hands. “Go to sleep,” Corvo said, still snickering. “I’m going to remind you that you said that in the morning, and probably for the rest of our lives.”

Gerome’s arms tightened around him. “‘S fine. So long as yer there.”

“Of course,” Corvo murmured, all laughter gone. “I’ll be right here.”

“‘Kay.”

*

Corvo woke up to the alarm and an incredibly clingy bed partner. Gerome had wrapped himself around Corvo so tightly that he couldn’t quite reach where the alarm was sitting on his table, even stretching. 

He poked Gerome gently in the side. “ _ Svegliatevi caro, _ ” he murmured. 

Gerome grumbled something incoherent and pulled a knife out of his clothing. He opened a bloodshot eye and glared at the alarm, flipping the knife over so that he was holding it by the point.

Corvo grabbed his wrist gently, squeezing a little. “Please don’t break my alarm clock,” he said, snorting. “Destroying it doesn’t mean I don’t have to get up, sadly.” He plucked the knife from Gerome’s fingers. “Do I even want to know where you were keeping that?”

Gerome blinked owlishly at him. “I got pockets made into all my fuckin’ clothes,” he rasped, shoving his hair out of his face. “They double as sheaths.” He closed his eyes and nuzzled Corvo’s nape. “Need coffee.”

“Outsider, will you put in an order for coffee to be brought up here?” Corvo asked, stretching out on the bed. “You’ll have to let me go long enough to get it when Morgan brings it up here,  _ innamorato _ ,” he told Gerome.

Gerome wormed a hand under Corvo’s tank top to rest it against his belly. “Mmph. Can’t tell if you’re sayin’ that to be cute, or if you just automatically do it now.”

Corvo leaned back into him, and said, “A little of both. I like them; used to call Emily  _ tatina _ when she was small, until it raised too many questions. If it makes you uncomfortable, I can stop though - or just do it in private.”

“More of a private reaction,” Gerome muttered and demonstratively rolled his hips against Corvo.

“... That didn’t really convince me to not do it in public,” Corvo admitted, pulling Gerome closer. Gerome snickered.

Corvo sighed heavily, hearing the elevator in the hall ding. “Coffee is here. Unless you want poor Morgan to come in here, you should let me up.”

Gerome groaned and untangled himself from Corvo. As soon as Corvo left the bed, he rolled over and cocooned himself in the blankets.

“You dick, I’m coming right back,” Corvo protested as he pulled on pants. He managed to make it out to the front room before Morgan could bring the tray of coffee all the way to his bedroom, and he gratefully took it from her. “Thanks,” he said, hefting it easily. 

Thankfully, Morgan wasn’t especially chatty in the morning, offering him a small smile and a curtsey before exiting. Corvo pushed his bedroom door open with his hip, putting the tray on his bedside table. “Coffee for you, Lord Burton,” he said dryly, climbing back into his warm spot on the bed. 

Gerome held open the blanket cocoon long enough for Corvo to slide in, then wrapped it back around them. “Don’t be an ass, PB,” he grunted, making grabby hands at the coffee.

Corvo snorted pouring Gerome a cup and fixing it quickly. “You stole my spot, I can be as much of an ass as I want,” he says, even as he handed Gerome the mug. 

“Gave it back, didn’t I? Oh, fuck, hello sweetheart,” he added, apparently to the coffee and drank half right away.

“Wow,” Corvo murmured. “The  _ coffee _ gets called sweetheart, but  _ me _ , I get ‘ _ ass _ ’. I can see where my importance in this bed is.” He nudged Gerome gently, taking care not to disturb the coffee mug. “How are you feeling?” He asked.

“Hungover,” Gerome said, frankly. He shifted, looking suddenly unsure. “Listen. I… I got somethin’ I gotta confess.”

“You can tell me anything, you know that,” Corvo said, settling back into his spot on the bed.

“I…” Gerome hesitated, put his coffee down and chewed his lip. He took a deep breath. “ _ IkindagotahandjobfromtheOutsider,” _ he blurted all in a rush.

It took a second for that to make sense and Corvo paused, coffee halfway to his mouth. “The Outsider gave you a handjob,” he repeated, taking care to keep his voice neutral.

Gerome stared down at the bedsheets, twisting them in his hands. “...Yes?”

“Considering that I know you, I'm going to assume it wasn't a drunken hand job,” Corvo said. “What actually happened?”

Gerome grimaced. “Okay, so. Some shit went down an’ I was… um. There were…” He gestured vaguely. “Stuff. I dunno. Magic shit. It did somethin’ to me. I was seein’ some stuff an’ it was, uh, pretty bad. An’ he said it'd help? An’ it really did! But I thought you should know 'cause you an’ him are together an’ communication is healthy?”

Several thoughts ran through Corvo's head before he rejected all of them. “Did you imagine I would be angry with you?” He instead wondered out loud.

“Well, maybe?” Gerome said flinging up his hands. “It was kinda cheatin’, right?”

“You both thought I was dead,” Corvo couldn't help but point out. “Besides, if it was meant to save your life then how could I complain? The Outsider is his own man, and if I was dead, it wouldn't matter anyway.” He grinned at Gerome. “Also, that's not a bad mental image.”

Gerome went pink. “Shuddup, you dork,” he grumbled. Then he sobered. “Okay, so… one last thin’. 'Cause of that whole magic fuckery I get trouble sometimes with figurin’ out which shit is real. There were hallucinations an’ they were, uh, pretty fuckin’ real.”

Corvo reached out and took his hand, running his thumb along the back of Gerome’s knuckles. “What can I do to help?” He asked.

Gerome gave him a wry grin. “Jus’ be you, PB. The hallucinations weren't nearly so disgustingly noble an’ good. Anyway, I ain't got any since, uh… Y'know. Since.”

“Since the Outsider got you off?” Corvo asked lightly, lifting an eyebrow.

Gerome went crimson. “For fuck’s sakes, you  _ ass _ .” He shoved at Corvo with a foot, and picked his coffee back up.

“Oh, we’re back to my being an ass, now?” Corvo laughed. “Thought I was good and noble. How soon things change.”

Gerome smirked at him from over the rim of the cup. “T’be honest, with an ass like yours, it’s pretty damn much a compliment.”

Corvo fixed himself his another mug of coffee, taking a fortifying sip before, completely deliberately, said, “ _ Non sembra voler fare niente con il mio culo, tesoro, _ ” before smirking. Gerome choked on his coffee and hastily put it down on the table before his coughing spilled it. 

Corvo sipped his coffee with a grin, finishing it unmolested as Gerome coughed, before putting the empty mug down. He could just faintly hear the Outsider say something over Gerome’s comm, and had the privilege of watching Gerome’s face go blotchy and his eyes go wide. “Cheater,” he told the Outsider, grinning wider.

Gerome’s shoulders hitched up around his ears. “Dammit, it ain’t like I know what I’m doin’ here,” he blurted, then looked mortified.

Corvo’s smile faded and he sat up. “C’mere,” he requested, holding out a hand to Gerome, letting him move on his own time. 

Gerome looked at Corvo’s hand, then ignored it and just flopped over on top of him. “I blame Pornbot for this,” he grumbled. “Meant to bring it up in a, y’know,  _ tactful _ kinda way.” From this proximity, Corvo could feel the heat radiating from Gerome’s face.

“ _ Innamorato _ ,” Corvo said fondly, “You wouldn’t know tact if it danced naked in front of you.” He stroked a hand down Gerome’s spine. “Is this why you keep backing off?” he asked, “Because you don’t know what else to do?”

“...Maybe,” Gerome admitted, reluctantly. “Didn’t even realise I thought you were hot ‘til that heatwave hit Dunwall an’ you were trainin’ without a shirt. There was a whole crisis an’ everythin’. Cal an’ I drank our feelin’s away, she took me to a strip club, Munchkin tried to ‘help’ by offerin’ me terrible fuckin’ information. It was a whole thing.”

Corvo blinked. “... That heatwave, if I’m remembering correctly was  _ years ago _ ,” he said incredulously. 

Gerome lifted his head just enough to eyeball him. “Yeah? Wait, you never figured it out?”

“No,” Corvo admitted. “I didn’t. Not until you kissed me in the throne room when I… woke up.” 

Gerome pulled back and stared at him. Finally, he shook his head. “Y’know, for a bodyguard, you’re real fuckin’ oblivious.”

“Excuse you,” Corvo said, shoving him back into the pillows. “You were never a threat, those are the sorts of things I pay the most attention to. Besides, I tried - seriously, a few times - to tell you that you were welcome to crawl into my bed at any time. But you always shrugged me off, or made it a joke, so I assumed that your flirting was a platonic or at least, friendly, thing.”

Gerome blinked. “Wait, those were serious-serious? I thought you were just invitin’ me in for a casual fuck.” Comprehension dawned. “Fuck, we’re  _ both _ idiots.”

<Entertaining ones, at least.>

“No one asked you,” Corvo said instantly. “But, seriously,  _ caro _ , it’s alright. You don’t need to know things, it’ll be fun to teach you.”

Gerome chuckled. “Well, you’ve taught me how the fuck to act in front of a fuckton of nobles, what all those fuckin’ spoons an’ shit are for, an’ how best to protect Sparrow. What’s one more thing.”

“Well,” Corvo said, snorting. “I think it’s a lot more fun than acting like a noble, or eating with the right spoon. Then again, if I recall, you found those lessons endlessly boring. So maybe you’ll be bored of this, too,” he teased.

Gerome didn’t even say anything, just gave Corvo a look.

“Can I help you?” Corvo asked, grinning.

Gerome surged forward and tackled Corvo to the bed. “Fuckin’ _menace_ ,” he growled, trying to pin Corvo down. Corvo laughed, letting Gerome knock him back, but hooked his leg around Gerome’s hip and flipped them. 

“I win,” he said, smug, leaning over Gerome. Gerome narrowed his eyes and twisted like an eel, trying to knock Corvo off. As soon as Corvo wobbled, he bucked his hips and knocked Corvo off balance, landing on top again.

“You sure about that?”

Corvo grinned slowly, lifting an eyebrow at Gerome. “Still me,” he said, and shifted just enough that Gerome settled between his legs instead of sitting directly on top of him. He had the singular pleasure of watching realization dawn, and Gerome turn red.

Keeping eye contact, Corvo slid his hands from where they rested on Gerome’s shoulders down his back and sides, gripping Gerome’s hips. He pulled Gerome up and forward just enough to slot them together at the right angle. 

Gerome’s head bowed and he shivered. “Yeah,” he rasped. “‘Kay. You win. You got an idea on what you wanna do with your prize?” He glanced up through his lashes at Corvo with a slow smirk.

“Depends,” Corvo drawled. “Is my prize going to run off on me?” he asked, half teasing, even as he dug his fingers into Gerome’s legs to hold him steady.

“Nah,” Gerome said with forced nonchalance. “I think it’s time for my first lesson, teach.”

Corvo grinned again before turning serious. “I know I'm teasing you, a bit, but if you get uncomfortable, tell me? I'd rather we stop everything than have you force yourself through something you don't like.” 

Gerome raised an eyebrow at him. “When have I ever passed up a chance to fuckin’ complain?” he asked, dryly. “C’mon. Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Good point,” Corvo murmured, then let go of Gerome’s right leg to trail his fingers up Gerome’s spine, cupping the back of his head. “This part I think you have down,” Corvo added, and kissed him. He kept it gentle, at first, before nipping Gerome’s lower lip, and using his grip to roll them over again. 

They kissed for long seconds, nothing hurried or rushed like their first few clinches, but Corvo could feel the way Gerome shifted obviously under him, his half-hard erection quickly taking an interest in what they were doing. 

Slowly, pulling back just enough to meet Gerome’s gaze, he rolled his hips down. 

Gerome’s head fell back against the bed and he shuddered, his hips twitching up to meet Corvo’s. He slid a hand back under Corvo’s tank to lightly rake his nails down his spine. “Yeah?” he asked, watching Corvo’s expression.

Corvo bit his lip and nodded. “Yeah,” he said, and leaned down to kiss the side of Gerome’s neck, biting gently - pausing long enough to press his teeth there in question.

Gerome’s hips jerked and he pressed his nails in a bit harder. His other hand ran through Corvo’s hair, pressing him closer.

Laughing against Gerome’s skin, Corvo obliged him, leaving sharp, biting kisses down his neck, and across his collarbone. He slid his hands up Gerome’s stomach and chest, sliding between his half unbuttoned shirt he’d never managed to take off before falling into bed, unbuttoning the rest as he went. “Yes?” Corvo prompted, fingers on the last top button.

“Only if you take yours off too,” Gerome answered. “I finally get to touch, c’mon. Off, off!” He tugged at Corvo’s shirt, grinning.

Corvo sat up, making sure to grind his hips against Gerome on the way, before tugging his shirt off and tossing it in the general direction of the laundry chute.  

Gerome’s grin turned into a leer, and he ran his hands over Corvo’s chest and arms. “Fuckin’ gorgeous,” he growled appreciatively. 

“Your turn,” Corvo said, tugging the last button open and pushing the shirt over Gerome’s shoulders. As  soon as he was free of it, Corvo leaned down and traced the tattoos on his upper chest and collar with his lips and tongue. “I’ve wanted to do that for probably six or seven years,” he murmured against the design there. 

Gerome’s hips ground up against Corvo. “Ah,  _ shit _ ,” he gasped out. His fingers spasmed against Corvo’s back as he squirmed. “Fuck, that’s good.”

Encouraged, Corvo followed the line of tattoos across Gerome’s collarbone, over his shoulder, teeth scraping the muscles at random points as he left bites and kisses there. Once he’d followed the intricate design across his bicep, he dragged his mouth down the inside of Gerome’s forearm, placing a final kiss on the pulse point at his wrist. 

With his free hand, he trailed his fingertips up and down Gerome’s open side, tracing random designs across his skin. With a smirk, he bit and sucked a dark mark on Gerome’s chest, just under one of his tattoo lines. 

He trailed his fingers down to edge of Gerome’s jeans, running his fingers along the edge.  “Yes?” he asked, cheeky.

Gerome propped himself up on his elbows, staring at Corvo. “ _ Yes _ \- I mean, you don’t have to, I can. Uh.”

“Gerome,” Corvo said, laughing, “Nothing I will do with you - or to you - is something I don’t want.” He kissed his hip. “Relax.”

Once Gerome had started breathing again, Corvo unbuttoned his jeans, flicking the zipper up and taking it in his teeth. 

“Ngh,” Gerome said, eloquently.

Slowly, keeping a good grip on the zipper, he pulled it all the way down. Once he’d run out of space, Corvo slid his hands up Gerome’s thighs, hooking his fingers into the edges of his jeans to tug them down. “Up,” he murmured, tapping Gerome’s hip. 

Silently, save for his quickened breathing, Gerome lifted his hips to let Corvo slide his jeans down.

Corvo sat up long enough to pull Gerome’s pants off his ankles and toss them to the edge of the bed before he leaned back over him, dotting open-mouthed kisses from the center of his chest down his torso. He looked up and met Gerome’s gaze, just as he bypassed Gerome’s erection to place a biting kiss on the inside of his thigh. 

Gerome jerked with a yelp. “C’mon,” he muttered. “C’mon, don’t tease, PB, Corvo, c’mon.”

Grinning, Corvo kissed over the bite mark he’d made. “Not a fan of teasing?” he asked. 

Gerome growled and hooked a leg around Corvo, urging him closer. “Teasin’ is for assholes.”

“Oh is it? I guess I fit right in here then,” Corvo said, and turned to bite Gerome’s other thigh. 

“I’ll fit right in yo- wait.”

Corvo laughed, looking up at him. “Yes, please,” he said. 

Gerome choked and went red again, falling back to cover his face. His body, however, betrayed his interest in the idea.

While he was distracted by trying to cover his face, Corvo leaned upward on his elbows, and pressed a kiss to the base of Gerome’s erection, waiting just long enough for the sensation to register before tracing his tongue up to the head of his cock. 

He paused there, circling  his tongue around before sliding his mouth down, all teasing gone. 

Gerome’s hips jackknifed up. “Ah, shit,” he gasped. “Sorry.”

Corvo moved with him, glancing up to meet Gerome’s eyes before sliding all the way down until his lips were touching Gerome’s body. He lifted an eyebrow before pulling back slowly, dragging his tongue the whole way up. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, a trifle hoarsely. 

Gerome reached down to run his fingers through Corvo’s hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. He raised his other hand to his mouth and bit down on his knuckle.

Pressing into Gerome’s touch, Corvo dragged his mouth back down onto Gerome, hollowing his cheeks and sucking lightly, looking back up and catching his eyes. It was a slightly awkward angle, but Corvo would rather watch Gerome’s face. He kept up the suction as he pulled back until his mouth was just around the head of his cock, digging his tongue into the sensitive nerves just on the underside causing Gerome to squirm and whine. 

He rubbed his tongue there as he increased the pressure of his mouth, sucking slightly harder. With his free arm, he pressed Gerome’s hips to the bed, holding him steady as he pulled away to take a breath and then slid the rest of the way down again.

Corvo held himself there, breathing through his nose before swallowing around Gerome’s cock. He managed it twice more before he needed to pull back for air again. He glanced up at Gerome, pressing little licks to the crown of his cock and down to the base dragging the flat of his tongue up the underside. 

Considering how long they’d been at this, Corvo judged that Gerome was nearing his breaking point so he tipped him a wink and slid his mouth down his cock, keeping his lips tight with pressure, and started up a quick, rhythmic hum, letting Gerome hit the back of his throat. 

“ _ Ah, fuck, shit _ ,” he keened. “Corvo, I’m-”

Corvo hummed again in acknowledgement, and swallowed around him, not letting Gerome up. He felt the way Gerome’s cock twitched, and took a deep breath through his nose before he tightened his jaw and started a harder suction, leaving Gerome as deep as he could manage and still breathe.

Gerome cried out, any words lost, as his hips hitched up. Corvo pressed him back down and swallowed around him as Gerome finally came. It had been a while, and Corvo’s jaw ached fiercely but it was worth it to see Gerome sprawled out bonelessly on the bed. 

He slipped up Gerome’s prone body, dropping random kisses as he went until he was pressed against Gerome’s side. Corvo kissed his right shoulder again, leaning his head on his fist, and watching as Gerome put himself back together slowly.

“Good?” he asked, half a check-in, half a tease. 

Gerome opened an eye and peered at him. “Give me a sec to get control over my fuckin’ limbs again, an’ I’ll show you good.”

Corvo grinned. “That makes you stop moving for ten seconds. Good to know,” he said, and leaned over Gerome to drop another bite against his collarbone. 

Gerome twitched and nudged Corvo onto his back. “Alright,” he said. “My turn.”

Settling back against the pillows, Corvo leaned his head on his linked hands. “I’m all yours,” he said, just to watch the reaction.

Gerome flushed and ducked his head. “Yeah, yeah, you fuckin’ feelin’ sponge,” he grumbled, trying not to sound pleased and failing.

Corvo grinned, reaching up and tugging Gerome into a kiss. “Uh-huh,” he agreed, against his mouth. 

Gerome pulled back and held Corvo’s gaze. “Lemme know if you’re not okay with somethin’, got it?”

“Of course,” Corvo promised. 

Gerome nodded, tucked his hair back behind his ears with determined eyes, and straddled Corvo’s hips. Then he set to work exploring every inch of Corvo’s body with his hands and mouth.

Upon learning that touching Corvo’s nipples made him shiver and gasp, Gerome spent what felt like hours on them, nipping and rubbing them. He trailed his way down, raking his nails through the hair below Corvo’s navel, dipping his tongue in and causing Corvo to jerk. 

Gerome dipped his fingers under Corvo’s pants and boxers, and glanced up.

“Yeah?” he asked.

Corvo nodded. “Yeah,” he murmured back, lifting his hips up helpfully. 

Gerome tugged Corvo’s clothes down, scratching his nails against Corvo’s hips and thighs as he did so. He bit his lip, eyeing Corvo’s cock, and reached out to give him a tentative stroke.

Then he licked his lips, ducked his head, and flicked his tongue over the bead of moisture gathering at the tip.

Corvo leaned up on his elbows to watch. “You don’t have to,” he said though his breath caught half through the sentence. 

Gerome glanced up at him. “An’ how the fuck am I supposed to learn if I don’t try,” he said, and lowered his head to take Corvo into his mouth. He got halfway before he had to pull off with a cough.

“Damn,” he croaked. “How the fuck do you go all the way down?”

“Practice,” Corvo said, amused. “But mostly you have to relax your throat, and go slow. Breathe through your nose.”

Gerome frowned and nodded, licking his hand. He stroked Corvo, getting him slick, and closed his lips around his cock again. What Gerome lacked in experience, he certainly made up for in enthusiasm. He licked and sucked, varying pressure and rhythm, glancing up at Corvo from time to time to gauge his reaction.

Corvo dropped back down on to the bed and fisted his hands in the sheets to keep himself from accidentally choking Gerome. 

“Think you’re good,” Corvo gasped out. “A natural.” 

Gerome hummed around him, reaching his free hand down to gently roll Corvo’s balls.

Choking back an embarrassing whine, Corvo nudged Gerome with his knee. “It’s really not going to take that long,” he said all in a rush. Gerome’s eyes narrowed in response, and he sped up his ministrations. 

Corvo fought down another hip twitch, only managing to abort it at the last second, twitching and writhing in place. “ _ Dio santo _ ,” he groaned, hitching up a little. “ _ Cazzo, cazzo, fuck _ , Ger _ ome _ ,” he warned sharply, and almost too late as orgasm slammed through him.

He’d been on edge too long to really hold back, and with the Outsider giving them their space, he didn’t even have that to fall back on. 

Gerome swallowed him down, stroking him through it. When Corvo subsided, twitching and nudging him away, Gerome pulled off and crinkled his nose. He leaned over Corvo and took a drink of his now-cold coffee.

“It’s an acquired taste,” Corvo said, tugging Gerome in for a kiss. He pulled them both back against the pillows, fingers tracing Gerome's tattoos absently. “Don't panic,” he said warmly, “But before this goes any further, we should talk.”

“Huh,” Gerome joked, his voice a little more hoarse than usual. “That bad?” He grinned at Corvo to take the sting out of his words.

Corvo swatted him. “ _ No _ .” Gerome snickered, swatting back. “This is not a ‘the sex was bad’ moment,” Corvo promised. “The sex was great. This is… an attempt to avoid some of the issues that the Outsider and I had in the very beginning of our relationship. You overheard some of the conversation way back in Rudshore,” he added. “If you recall.”

Gerome grinned at him. “Your face after you found out there weren't no one there was fuckin’ priceless.”

Rolling his eyes, Corvo sighed. “I’m not sure if it’s a curse or a blessing that you remember that,” he muttered. “Either way, we needed to have that conversation before all and sundry because a lot of boundaries were being ignored entirely.” 

Gerome rolled over and propped his chin up on Corvo's chest. “Yeah, makes sense,” he said. “I don't wanna hurt you, an’ I definitely don't wanna take a knife to you like in the crazy high-level kinky shit. An’ I ain't gonna call you names like 'slut’. That never sat right with me.”

Corvo snorted. “Lucky for us both that neither of those things I’m particularly interested in.” He thought for a second. “Did we ever explain why the Outsider sat so easily in my  head, and not so easily in Em’s?” he wondered.

Gerome shrugged. “I always figured it was because it was fuckin’ weird t’ be in your step-kid’s brain.”

“That’s probably true,” Corvo said, laughing softly. “But not the real reason. The easiest way to explain this is that I have amnesia. There’s an entire period of my life that was deleted from my mind, against my will, when I was in Coldridge. I don’t remember being there. I don’t remember you attacking with Daud, I don’t remember Jessamine dying - you know that part. But because of this gap, this space, the Outsider slots into my head without overlap or being overfull.” He paused, thinking about it. “It also means that I have very bizarre body triggers that my brain accepts as beyond terrifying even though I’m not aware of them until after they happen. Knives and blood fall into that category.”

“Like when Em was little an’ splashed your face?” Gerome asked.

Corvo shivered. “Yes, being submerged also is one of those things. Water on my face at all, if I’m not expecting it, is… bad. I just go blank, pft, gone, until the Outsider can get me out of the situation.” He smiled wanly. “I’d rather that not happen in bed with you.”

Gerome tilted his head. “By 'get you outta the situation’, you mean he takes over your body? Is  _ that _ what the fuck happened last time with th’ splashin’?”

“In some cases,” Corvo said. “You’ve seen him take over before, it’s pretty simple for us to do now after eleven years of practice,” he added dryly. “When I’m suddenly introduced to something I do not like, splashing my face, for example - he’ll take over just long enough to get me away from it so I can come back and not have a panic attack over something I don’t even remember.”

“Huh,” Gerome said, flipping back onto his back. “Hope I don't accidentally find one of those triggers.” Then he glanced over at Corvo from the corner of his eye. “How 'bout pinnin’ you down an’ havin' my way with you? Would that cause you any trouble?”

Corvo could feel the Outsider stir in his mind, radiating interest.

“Thankfully, I seem to have escaped that particular trigger,” Corvo murmured. “Being held down, or pinned, or tied up, causes no issue for me.”

“Good,” Gerome said. “An’ you seemed okay with bitin’ an’ leavin’ marks.” He brushed his thumb over one such mark on Corvo's pectoral.

“Mm,” Corvo agreed, trailing his fingers up Gerome’s chest. “That’s also fine. I don’t like my face being covered - so, no gags, or blindfolds. No knives or real blood, though if you accidentally break skin I think I’d be okay.” 

Gerome huffed. “I ain't gonna gag you,” he said. “I wanna be able to hear you.”

Corvo grinned. “Good to know,” he said. “M- Uh. Had a Fugue Feast partner who asked once, and hard pass.”

Gerome went brilliantly blotchy, and stuttered.

Intrigued, Corvo lifted an eyebrow. “What was  _ that _ reaction?” he asked.

“Nothin’!” Gerome squeaked, hiding an overwarm face against Corvo's shoulder.

“My other hard limit is lying,” Corvo said with a grin. 

“Augh,” Gerome said, plaintively. “Okay, so. That one Fugue? An’ late? Wi’ marks? An’  _ really fuckin’ hot _ .”

Corvo grinned. “That was a fun night,” he said. “I remember running into you, thought you were disapproving of how late I was coming home,” he said.

“I was more worried than disappointed,” Gerome mumbled. “But you came back, an’ lookin’ like  _ that. _ An’ I wanted to do shit to you until you only thought about me, an’ everythin’ was terrible.” His voice still cracked with embarrassment.

Corvo slid his hand up into Gerome’s hair, tugging gently until he looked up so Corvo could kiss him gently. “Well,” he said with deliberate lightness, “Now you have that chance.”

Gerome growled. “I wanna  _ wreck _ you, like they did,” he said, circling strong fingers around Corvo's wrist.

“Yes, please,” Corvo murmured. “Definitely.” He leaned down and kissed Gerome again, not bothering to bank the heat the idea of Gerome tying him down had given him. “What about you,” he murmured, finally pulling away. “Likes, dislikes, I don’t want to hurt you anymore than you want to hurt me.”

Gerome shrugged. “I dunno some of it,” he admitted. “Since I ain't exactly practiced with a lotta dudes, but some things’d be the same. I like hearin’ you, seein’ the effect I have on you. Watchin’ you. I guess we can find out whatever the fuck else I like by foolin’ around more.”

Corvo tugged on Gerome until he flipped back over, laying across Corvo’s chest. “Oh damn,” he said with a grin, “However shall I survive?” 

Gerome buried a hand in Corvo's hair, grinning down at him. “Well,” he drawled. “If you stop breathin’ I can always perform mouth-t’-mouth.” He grinned.

“Medical kink, hm?” he teased. “Never tried  _ that  _ before.”

Gerome groaned, letting his head flop back. “Goddamn it, PB,” he muttered.

Corvo laughed at him, pulling him closer. “Sorry, sorry, couldn’t help it.” He kissed the top of Gerome’s head. “If at any point having the Outsider as my constant passenger bothers you,” he said, changing the subject, “Just let him know - he’s willing to give us space if you need it. He’s been rooting for, and I quote,  _ ravishing _ , for a bit now.” 

“Nah,” Gerome said, waving a hand. “Pornbot don't bother me. I've had a long time to come to terms that you two are a fuckin’ set.”

<Tell Gerome it's a condition. Tell him I expect to see ravishing happen by the end of the month.>

Corvo snorted. “The Outsider says that the ravishing is a condition and he expects to see it happen by the end of the month.” He paused. “Which is in three days, of course.”

Gerome snorted. “I see how it is,” he said, grinning up at the sensors set into the ceiling. “You just wanna watch some live-action remakes of your shitty books.”

<Would I do that?> The Outsider said, all innocence.

“Yeah, you fuckin’ would, you fuckin’ pervert,” Gerome answered, laughing.

<I am still not hearing an objection,> the Outsider said, smug.

Gerome stretched. “I'm in bed with a gorgeous brunet. Who the fuck would argue?”

“I'm not opposed to ravishing,” Corvo said. “Just the word itself.”

<Well? Get on it, then.>

“Unlike a certain AI, we got actual fuckin’ jobs to do,” Gerome said, though he didn't make any move to get up.

Corvo traced his fingers over Gerome’s shoulders. “And,” he added with a grin, “Unlike me, some people in this bed don't have a built in AI to help their body along when otherwise they'd be too old for more.”

Gerome tugged on a lock of Corvo's hair. “Asshole,” he said. “If I weren't in such a great mood from, uh _ , recent events _ , I'd kick you outta my bed for that.”

“I'm not sure if this has escaped your notice,  _ caro _ , but this is my bed,” Corvo said, his grin widening. “But I'm pleased to know your brain is still melted.”

Gerome caught Corvo's chin and tugged him up for a languid kiss. “Yup,” he said against Corvo's lips, blushing. “You sucked my brains out through my dick.” 

Delighted, Corvo kissed him again. “Are you going to blush every time we do anything, because I could get used to that.”

“No,” he muttered sullenly, reddening further.

“Ooh, promise?”

Gerome shoved at him. “Fuck off, PB. Ain't you got a meetin’ to go to?”

“I'd really much rather stay in bed with you,” Corvo murmured. He tilted his head to look up at his alarm clock. “I am spectacularly late as it is,” he said. “Worth it.”

Gerome grinned, pleased. Then he glanced down Corvo’s body.

“You, uh, might want to wear the coat with the high collar,” he said, a mix of sheepish and proud. “I did a real fuckin’ number on you.”

Corvo followed his gaze, and rolled his eyes. “This is going to be fun to explain.”

Gerome grinned wider. “Isn’t Em going to be there?” he asked, innocently.

Corvo licked his lips, and nodded to Gerome’s neck. “You might want to fix your collars too, for awhile,” he said. “Your collarbone is a bit... marked up. More than usual.” He pushed himself up, and rolled out of bed, wandering over to his dresser. 

Gerome tucked his chin, trying to see his own collarbone and then shrugged. “Everyone who’s opinion I fuckin’ care about already knows,” he said. “An’ it’d be fun to see those choffers try to keep a straight face.”

He dressed quickly, shooting Gerome an amused look over his shoulder. “You’re just saying that because Peverly is going to be there. Sadly, Delilah’s occupation didn’t manage to drive him off.” Once he was fully clothed, he went back to the bed, leaning down and kissed Gerome, cupping his face with both hands. “I’ll see you later,  _ tesoro _ ,” he murmured against his jaw.

Gerome wrapped an arm around Corvo, holding him close for a heartbeat, then gently pushing him away. “See you in a bit,” he said. “I gotta shower an’ change into clothes that don’t smell like seedy bars.”

“Probably a good plan,” Corvo said. “Feel free to loot my closet if you don’t feel like walking back to your room.” He kissed Gerome again, quick and light. “See you at dinner.”

He Dashed to the door and into the elevator before he could be tempted to stay in bed any longer. He’d already missed his meeting and twelve calls from Emily. 

Definitely worth it, but trying to explain was certainly going to be interesting.

*

Corvo Dashed up to the door of Emily’s office, then smoothed down his hair and made sure his jacket was buttoned before knocking and pushing the door open. “Em, I am  _ so  _ sorry,” he said as soon as she looked up from her terminal. “I lost track of time.” 

She looked up from her work to glance obviously at the clock on the wall, then looked him over. “Seriously?” she said, “You were with Uncle.”

He hesitated, even after eleven years, he wasn’t entirely certain how to broach the subject of his having a romantic partner - let alone two - with her. “Yes,” he finally admitted, dropping into the chair across from hers. 

“Father,  _ really _ ,” she sighed. The lights around her all dimmed with a strange flicker, and Corvo found his attention caught by them. “I know I encouraged Uncle to tell you how he felt but you were always the one taking  _ me _ to task for my relationship with Wyman. Don’t you think it’s a little hypocritical of you to be over an hour late to a meeting you set up?”

Dry, he said, “I think my one time far pales in comparison to the scavenger hunts you used to send me on, Em,” he said. 

She waved that off, and shadows trailed through the air like strange fabric around her hand. “That’s not the  _ point _ .”

Corvo frowned at her. “It won’t happen again, Emily,” he finally said, not particularly interested in arguing with her over it. 

When Emily glanced again at the clock, her eyes caught the shadows on her side of the desk and as she looked back at him, it was like seeing a stranger. Her eyes, once Jessamine’s color and shape, where black from lid to lid, without pupil or iris. 

“... Emily?” he asked, alarmed, rising out of the chair to get a better look.

She cleared her throat and went back to her terminal as though the side of the room she sat on wasn’t growing darker and darker with artificial shadows. “See that it doesn’t. I rescheduled this morning’s meeting to tomorrow afternoon.”

He Dashed around the desk, but found himself met with an invisible wall of shadows, halted in his tracks. “Emily,” he barked.

“I’m fine, father,” she said, without turning. “They’ll go away on their own. They always do.”

There was a slight echoing quality to her voice the more she spoke to him, and Corvo pushed against the air, trying to breach the shadows that protected her. “Emily,” he said again, trying to keep his voice calm. “How often does this happen?”

She shrugged, still not turning around. “At least once a day,” she answered, sounding like she was very far away.

“Emily,” he said. “Emily, turn around.”

Her shoulders slumped, and slowly she spun around in her chair. Her eyes were still black and empty, and her nose steadily dripped blood in steady streams that she didn’t even bother to stifle. “I’m fine,” she said again, her face a blank mask. “It always stops.”

“New plan,” he said, sharp and worried. “You come to me.”   
She smiled wanly, the first bit of emotion on her face since he’d walked into the room. “I’m afraid if I stand up I may fall over,” she admitted.

“Then push toward me,” he said. 

Ever stubborn, Emily shook her head, wiping away some of the blood. “No, I’ll go lay down after this, I promise. I probably won’t sleep, but I’ll go rest. Promise.” 

“How long has this been happening?” Corvo demanded.

“On and off since… Delilah died,” Emily answered, and when she said Delilah’s name, the shadows snapped around her, shattering and disintegrating around them. Freed from the wall that kept him from her, Corvo skidded around the desk to kneel at her side.

The blood stopped shortly after, and slowly, too slowly, Emily’s eyes drained of darkness. 

“Okay,” Corvo said softly. “Why don’t we get something to eat. I didn’t have time for breakfast, and I know you forgot to eat. Then you can rest.”   
Emily leaned forward and hugged him gently. “I’m not hungry. You go on. I’ll just go lay down. I’ll see you at dinner tonight though, dad.” 

Then she flickered in his grip and was gone, as she Reached somewhere he couldn’t see. The only thing left behind were the drops of blood on the floor. 

“What the hell,” he said, sitting back on his heels. There were far more blood stains on the white tiles than just from a few minutes before. 

“Outsider, I need you keep an eye on Emily’s use of magic, please,” he said, unnerved. “This… this can’t be right.” 

<I have been monitoring the situation since it began, I will let you know of my findings once they are compiled.>

Corvo sighed in relief. “I really don’t know what I would do without you,” he said. “I don’t have much to do today,” he added, leaving the room and locking up behind himself. “After I meet with Alexi and the Twins, we should do something. Feels like I’ve barely spoken to you recently.”

<Time means little in the ‘Net. I’m repairing quite a bit of damage that had been done when Delilah corrupted Tower’s network. With her death, most things weren’t running. There are still areas I’m working on, even after all this time.>

Faintly amused, Corvo asked, “Does that mean buzz off and let me work?”

<It means I’ve been hunting down and eradicating every bit of Delilah that was left in the Net, or risk her programs shutting down essential systems like filtration and sanitation, even after her physical body and mind were destroyed. In the meantime, why don’t you cement your budding relationship with Lord Burton? It’s still a new and fragile thing.>

Corvo Dashed toward his office, closing himself in before answering. “A new and fragile thing yes, but I’m not just going to forget that we haven’t spent any time alone since I woke up. If you’re busy with the ‘Net, that’s one thing but you don’t have to make yourself scarce out of some weird misplaced sense of responsibility to Gerome.”

There was a staticky chuckle from the speakers. <I’m hardly languishing, my Host. I was merely suggesting Gerome as something to keep you occupied. There’s little you can do to help me in this battle, and it does have some urgency.>

“Fine,” Corvo said, rolling his eyes. “Just. Know that I miss you.” He cleared his throat awkwardly, and turned on his terminal to avoid looking up at the Tower’s sensors. “Let me know when you’re done with your… battles?”

<Of course, my Host.>

*

He worked straight through lunch, having checked in on Alexi, and made sure the Twins were settled into the broadcast booth of the Tower, and then signing off on all the security checks that Daud had asked him to look into. 

By the time his stack of paperwork was more or less completed,  he leaned back in his chair, cracking his neck. “Hey,” he prompted the Outsider quietly. “Any idea where Gerome is?”

<Lord Burton is finishing his patrol of the Tower,> the Outsider said. <He’s checked in on Emily and is now on his way to you. He may be somewhat flustered.>

“... Why, what did you do?” Corvo asked.

<I merely wanted to offer him some help with his inexperience,> came the exaggeratedly innocent answer. <There are several information packets available online that I forwarded to him.>

“Oh my  _ God _ ,” Corvo groaned, dropping his head to his desk. “See, I’ve known you too long to believe you just sent him information to be  _ helpful _ ,” he muttered. “What did you send him… specifically.”

<Several packets that detail the specifics of safe anal sex, some information regarding stable triads, and->

Before he could finish, Gerome barged into the room, pausing just long enough to shut the door firmly, then stormed over to Corvo’s desk.

“PB,” he growled. “Tell that fuckin’ troll to stop sendin’ me porn!”

<Oh, and a wide variety of homosexual threesome and mild BDSM pornography. I’ve found it pays to have a reference.>

Corvo couldn’t even find it within himself to be remotely surprised.

He sat up, rubbing his forehead. “Okay, a few points,” he said. “One:  _ caro _ , if I could control the Outsider, he wouldn’t be himself, so sadly no, I cannot make him stop sending you anything. Two: I  _ know _ we talked about how porn is unrealistic, Outsider, so don’t even try that realism line on me. Three: the packets about safe sex might actually be helpful, so to save your face and your soul,  _ caro _ , you might want to read those.” 

“I was in the middle of the damn courtroom when I got those,” Gerome hissed, turning a blotchy pink with embarrassment. “I was lucky I had the datapad fuckin’ muted or the whole room would have heard!”

<I muted the datapad, actually. I didn’t want you to be humiliated, after all.>

“Oh thanks so fuckin’ much for thinkin’ of my comfort, you fuckin’ insufferable digital dick. I’m gonna draw shit on your body next time.”

Corvo snorted. “If he didn’t like you, he wouldn’t have muted the datapad,” he pointed out. 

Gerome snorted. “Yeah, I know. He’s like one of the fuckin’ Twins, always startin’ shit. You remember how they acted around Mayhew before she set ‘em straight? All pullin’ her metaphorical pigtails.”

Corvo grinned at him. “You realize that makes you Mayhew in that metaphor?”

Gerome smirked. “I’ll take it. Kid’s a badass.”

“I  _ suppose  _ I can see the parallels,” Corvo said doubtfully, eyeing Gerome. 

“What? Don’t think I could pull of the uniform? What with my feminine curves an’ all.”  He bat his eyelashes at Corvo.

“Well, you don’t have an ass, so…” Corvo said, eyeing Gerome appreciatively. 

Gerome put a hand over his heart. “I’m fuckin’ wounded, PB. If I had a heart it would be in fuckin’ pieces.”

“I speak nothing but the truth,” Corvo said, standing up and stretching out the slight ache in his back. “Dinner, or do you have more to do this evening,  _ caro _ ?”

“Nah, I’m free,” Gerome said, then smiled, a small, shy thing. “Why don’t you come over to my place? I can cook you somethin’.”

Corvo lifted an eyebrow. “You can cook?”

Gerome scoffed. “‘Course I can cook. I learned from the best. Nothin’ fancy, an’ I don’t do it often. Anyway, you think the Twins can cook? Munchkin? Cal? C’mon.”

He coughed a little, rubbing the back of his head. “Or me.” 

Gerome smirked. “Yeah, well, I’d bet havin’ a fuckin’ Royal Chef feedin’ you didn’t help, oh Lord Protector.”

Rolling his eyes, Corvo turned off his terminal and picked up his comm unit, fitting it back in his ear, before stepping around the desk. “Whenever you want to make a point about my being a noble choffer, you conveniently forget I grew up in the slums of Karnaca,” he said, amused. He reached out and snagged Gerome’s loosened tie, pulling him in for a quick kiss. 

“Yup,” Gerome agreed, grinning. “Completely slips my mind.”

He pushed Gerome toward the door. “Alright,  _ innamorato _ , amaze me with your cooking skills.”

Gerome’s apartment was a mirror of Corvo’s. Couch, vidscreen, bed, kitchenette, washroom off to the side. It was also suspiciously tidy.

Corvo blinked, then turned to make sure they were in the right hallway. “... Have you been replaced by some sort of android?” he wondered. “This place looks brand new.” 

Gerome rubbed the back of his neck. “I did some tidyin’, didn’t I?” he muttered. “‘S different havin’ your fuckin’… uh. Y’know. Havin’ you over on a date than havin’ you over just to watch movies an’ hang out.” Going a bit pink, he ambled over to the kitchen. “Stew sound good to you? I got some bloodox that’s fresh. There’s some of your fuckin’ fancy-ass beers in the fridge. Don’t touch the stout, that’s goin’ in the stew.”

Corvo went over to the refrigerator and snagged a beer, dropping a brief kiss on the back of Gerome’s neck as he bent over his counter. “Stew is fine,” he said.

“Good, ‘cause that’s what you’re gettin’.” Gerome pulled a knife off of the magnetic strip and deftly flipped it around his fingers, before briskly sharpening it with a few quick swipes. He grabbed the bloodox meat and set to work cubing it for the stew. “Pass me the carrots an’ potatoes, please.”

Putting his beer down, Corvo rummaged about in the fridge and pulled out the asked for vegetables. He dropped them on the counter next to where Gerome was cutting up the bloodox and pressed himself against his side. He leaned there for the span of several heartbeats, pulling the potatoes out of the sack. “ _ Cos'altro, caro _ ?” he asked.

Gerome inhaled sharply through his nose. “If you make me cut off a fuckin’ finger, I ain’t never talkin’ to you again.” He pulled out some flour and shook it into a bowl, stepping around Corvo to do so. On his way back to the bloodox, his clean hand darted out and goosed him.

Corvo laughed, swatting his hand. “The day I make you slip up with a knife is a day a long time away,  _ caro _ ,” he said. “Do you need any more help? Because I should warn you now that if you ask me to do anything that is more complicated than handing you things - or distracting you - dinner may well get ruined.”

Gerome ducked in for a quick kiss, then tossed the bloodox in the flour and spices. “Ha, nah,” he said, shooing Corvo out of the kitchen. “Just stand over there an’ look pretty, PB.”

Chuckling, Corvo backed out of the kitchen, and wandered into the main sitting area to get comfortable. He shoved his boots under the table and tossed his jacket over the back of a chair, curling up on the couch with his datapad. 

He scrolled through his messages, replying to the three Daud had sent him in the time it had taken them to walk from the Tower to the apartments, and he sent a quick check in message to Emily to tell her he was eating dinner with Gerome and would see her after.

Gerome came ambling out from the kitchen. “Stew’s gotta simmer for a while,” he said, dropping down onto the couch next to Corvo, holding one of his terrible, cheap beers. “Wanna watch somethin’?”

Corvo grinned at him. “Well, the Outsider did send you a bunch of new videos…” he said leadingly.

Gerome doubled over in a coughing fit, choking on his beer. “You fuckin’ menace,” he gasped out. “Holy fuck, that burns.”

“Sorry,” Corvo said, not very sorry at all. “Though if you  _ did _ want to check those out, I wouldn’t care. Porn doesn’t really do it for me, but watching you go red and embarrassed does.”

Gerome side-eyed him. “Are you sayin’ you get off on embarrassin’ me?” A hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Only a little,” Corvo said, snorting. “I like making you squirm.”

Gerome opened and closed his mouth for a few seconds, going an increasingly darker shade of red. Then he laughed, flopping back against the couch and slinging an arm along the back to tangle in Corvo’s hair.

“Damn,” he said, shaking his head. “I thought you couldn’t get anythin’ else to tease me with once we started datin’. How fuckin’ naive I was, huh?” He scratched his fingers through Corvo’s hair with a fond smile.

Corvo’s head dropped without conscious decision, and he groaned quietly into the touch at the back of his head. “It’s a gift,” he mumbled. 

“Huh,” Gerome said, in the tones of someone who had just been handed a prize. “Y’like that, don’t you?’

He glared at Gerome out of the corner of his eye. “ _ Se dico di sì, lo farai solo contro di me _ ,” he said viciously.

“I don’t know what the fuck you just said, but I’m usin’ this like the fuckin’ gift it is.” Gerome tugged Corvo closer so he could knead the tense muscles along the back of his neck. They always ached after hours of desk work.

Corvo’s head dropped lower and he leaned into Gerome’s space. “Yeah, okay,” he agreed. “Just don’t stop.”

Corvo could hear the smirk in Gerome’s voice. “Was plannin’ on havin’ you say that later tonight,” he said, pressing a kiss to the nape of Corvo’s neck. “But this works, too.”

He shivered, and tilted his head to give Gerome better access. “Night’s still young,” he said. 

Gerome chuckled and nipped at Corvo’s ear. “Yeah, well, don’t want the fuckin’ stew to burn,” he murmured. “An’ I’ve been told anticipation makes everythin’ better.”

Snorting, Corvo turned his head to look over at Gerome. “You’ve been told, hm?” he repeated. 

“A little electronic birdie told me,” Gerome answered. Then he stood up and smirked at Corvo. “Gotta check on dinner.” He sauntered back into the kitchen.

Corvo scowled. “Well he would know,” he said. “But I think if I told you why, you’d burn the stew.”

There was a laugh from the kitchen. “What? You don’t think I didn’t fuckin’ know about your kinky shit with the Outsider?”

“You know some,” Corvo said. “But unless the Outsider has been telling you tales, then you know about as much as everyone else knew about Jessamine and I.” He leaned back on the couch. “Kinky shit can encompass a lot of things,  _ caro _ .” 

Gerome came out of the kitchen holding a long wooden spoon. “Taste this an’ tell me what you think,” he ordered. “An’ I was there for hearin’ you admit to likin’ bein’ tied up with Lady Boyle. An’ there was some, uh,  _ specific _ kinds of porn I was sent.”

Corvo leaned forward and blew on the spoon to cool it off a little before tasting it. “Hm,” he said, “Needs more salt. Otherwise it’s perfect.” He looked up at Gerome and added, “Yeah, I remember that, admitting to Esma Boyle that I liked to be tied up was a great moment of a spectacular brain-to-mouth failure.” He was intrigued though, and asked, “What did he send you, exactly?”

“Well,  _ I didn’t watch it _ ,” Gerome said, exasperated and going blotchy again. “But it was labelled. Org- uh, denial, somethin’ about sensory stuff, different ways to tie someone up, I think.”

Stifling a grin behind the mouth of his beer bottle, Corvo said, highly amused, “Wow, Gerome, if you can’t say it, maybe we shouldn’t be doing it.”

Gerome flushed darker. “Shuddup, smartass.” He escaped to the kitchen again.

Corvo openly laughed at him. “ _ Tesoro,  _ what do you think orgasm denial  _ does _ , exactly?” he asked, waiting to see if Gerome would drop something. 

There was the clatter of metal hitting metal and a yelp from the kitchen.  “You’re a fuckin’ asshole, y’know that?” There was the sound of water running and, just barely audible under it, muttered curses.

“Yes,” Corvo agreed. “You decided you wanted me anyway. Reap what you sow,  _ caro. _ ”

Gerome came out of the kitchen carrying a tray with two bowls of stew and thick pieces of crusty bread. “Y’know what they say,” he said, philosophically. “The benefits outweigh the fuckin’ downsides. Or somethin’ like that.”

Corvo stood to take the tray from him, leaning over it to kiss him. “It’s the benefits outweigh the risk,” he said. “Thank you for dinner.”

Gerome shrugged the thanks off. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. Now c’mon, there’s a great old movie that’s from like, a hundred years ago. ‘S called, ‘Attack of the Spider People From Planet 9’.”

“Literally the second thing Emily told me once I woke up was that I was to limit your horror vid intake. She wouldn’t tell me why, but she said I had to control you and your horror vids.”

Gerome scowled. “Did she also say I was fuckin’  _ right _ ? That I totally fuckin’ called the murder hospital an’ batshit people?”

“I read the report on Addermire,” Corvo said, around a bite of stew. “But Emily didn’t mention you being right about anything.”

“‘Course she didn’t,” Gerome scoffed. “I fuckin’ called the crazy woman, the hospital bein’  a horror vid set,  _ an’ _ the twist of poor Hypatia bein’ fucked over, but the Outsider beat me to that one.”

Dipping the bread into the stew, Corvo made a commiserating face. “He’s annoyingly good at that, isn’t he?”

“That an’ bein’ a cryptic li’l shit.”

“Are you two sure you like each other?” Corvo asked, amused.

Gerome shrugged. “‘S like me ‘n Thomas. We pick at each other, but ‘s all in fun. I trust him at my back, an’ that’s really all that matters.”

“I can understand that,” Corvo said, and pushed aside his empty bowl. “Alright fine, put in your horror vid and we can pick at it, since our lives have to be weirder or scarier than the attack of the mutant spider people.”

Gerome grinned and darted in to kiss Corvo. “Fuckin’ A,” he crowed, pulling a battered datapad out from under the table and flicking through the menu until he found what he wanted. Another flick and the vidscreen lit up with an old vid.

Gerome sprawled on the couch, his thigh pressed up against Corvo’s and one hand returning to his hair. His thumb lightly stroked the curve of Corvo’s ear, back and forth, absently. He balanced the bowl on his knee and kept eating with his free hand.

Corvo leaned back against his shoulder and side, dropping his hand to Gerome’s free leg, rubbing his thumb against the outside of his knee. “I see I have some competition,” Corvo mused, grinning sidelong at Gerome. “With horror vids.”

Gerome chuckled and dropped his hand from Corvo’s hair to his thigh. “Yup,” he agreed. “Can’t get enough of that shitty CGI.” His fingers stroked idly along Corvo’s inseam.

Shifting to give Gerome more room, Corvo draped himself over Gerome’s side. “In retaliation I’ll have to show you my favorite ones,” he said. “Emily hates them.”

Gerome grinned and used the last of his bread to sop up the rest of his stew. “It’s a date, then,” he said, pleased. He put the bowl onto the coffee table and lounged back against the couch. As the movie progressed, his hand crept higher and higher along the inside of his thigh. It was only a light, teasing touch, but Corvo was increasingly aware of it.

To keep himself focused on both the movie and Gerome’s own physical state, Corvo retaliated by running his thumb along the exposed tattoos on Gerome’s arm, tracing the dark lines with his nail. It wasn’t meant to do more than distract Gerome from trying to distract  _ him _ , but whenever Gerome shivered, Corvo grinned to himself. 

In retaliation, Gerome slung his other arm along the back of the couch and scratched at Corvo’s scalp. Still without taking his eyes from the holovid.

Corvo bit back a groan, and tilted his head down. He managed to pay only the slightest bit of attention to the vid, dropping his hand back to Gerome’s leg and drawing random designs across the fabric of his jeans in time to the scratches he was receiving. 

Gerome lightly dug his nails into Corvo’s nape. “C’mon, pay attention,” he growled softly. “This is a good part.”

He dragged his eyes open, not realizing he had closed them. “It’s a little hard to pay attention when you do that,” he said pointedly. 

Gerome grinned sidelong at Corvo. “‘S the idea,” he said, and slowly dragged the edge of a thumbnail alongside Corvo’s spine, from his collar to the base of his skull.

Corvo bit his lip to stifle a sound, but couldn’t stop the full body shiver that the move had caused. “Teasing is for assholes,” he grumbled. 

Gerome chuckled. “‘S why your ‘bot an’ I are the one’s doin’ it. Now, c’mon. Pay attention.” He gripped the back of Corvo’s neck and gave him a little shake.

There was no hiding the way he went a little limp at the move, sinking further into Gerome’s space. His eyesight went a bit blurry, but he focused on the screen, to watch the hero and heroine take down a nest of frankly alarmingly-sized spiders. 

“Good boy,” Gerome murmured. He was flushed, but watched Corvo out of the corner of his eye.

Corvo couldn’t have stopped his reaction to that if he’d tried. He blew out a slow breath that caught halfway through and he shuddered. He pressed back into Gerome’s grip and let himself relax into the couch. He gave half a thought to continue trying to touch Gerome’s arm or leg but it was easier to just melt into Gerome instead.

“Damn,” Gerome breathed. “You really fuckin’ love this, don’t you.” He dug his thumb into the tense muscles at the base of Corvo’s skull, watching Corvo’s reaction avidly.

Corvo gave him a half smile. “I could try to explain, but you told me to watch the movie,” he slurred, amused, arching his neck into Gerome’s grip a little more. 

“That I did,” Gerome agreed. He returned his hand to Corvo’s nape, not gripping, but just resting there like a promise. “I think you can hold out for half an hour more.”

Corvo tried to bite back his disappointed groan but only succeeded in strangling it awkwardly. “Yeah. Yes, fine,” he sighed, and refocused on the vid. 

Gerome didn’t let up throughout the entire vid. Whenever Corvo’s attention would slip, he’d hold the back of Corvo’s neck again with that same biting grip and give him a gentle shake until he refocused.

By the time the credits rolled, Corvo could barely remember the vid’s plot, let alone what the characters looked like. He was floating on the feeling of Gerome’s hand on the back of his neck, and the warm flush rolling through him because of it. Even after the vid stopped, leaving them in early twilight half-darkness, Corvo remained in his position, leaning into Gerome, holding still. 

“There we go,” Gerome said, pressing a kiss to Corvo’s temple. “C’mon, up.” He helped Corvo stand on shaking legs, leading him into the bedroom. “Hey,” he said, leaning into Corvo’s line of sight. “This stops when you say, got it? Shoulda done that earlier, but uh, I got distracted.”

“Verbena,” Corvo said, with a half smile. “It’s my safeword. I don’t have the brain to really explain why someone needs a safeword, you can ask the Outsider, but if I need something to stop, that’s what I’ll say.” 

Gerome smiled, a quick flash of a thing. “Yeah, I read up on some of the info. An’ I ain’t so vanilla I don’t know what safewords are.” He pressed a kiss to the bridge of Corvo’s nose. “Now, strip.”

Corvo leaned against him briefly, before pulling back and quickly unbuttoning his vest. His fingers slipped a few times but he managed it in short order. He left it hanging on his frame as he went to work on his shirt, shrugging them both off and dropping them to the floor. He toed his socks off, pushing them out of his way and unhooked his belt. 

With no shame or embarrassment, he pushed his trousers and boxers down, standing naked before Gerome in minutes. His knees felt a little liquid, and he ignored the urge to kneel without being told, instead clasping his hands behind his back and waiting patiently. 

Gerome raked his eyes up Corvo’s body, from his toes to his eyes. “Nice,” he said, with an exaggerated leer. He stepped forward and kissed Corvo, a deep and filthy kiss. His hands raked down Corvo’s back to grab his ass and pull Corvo against him, sliding a clothed thigh between Corvo’s legs and grinding up.

Corvo groaned into the kiss, leaning against Gerome’s chest and riding his thigh. He kept his hands behind him, using Gerome’s body as a brace, though he widened his stance to make up for their height difference. 

Gerome laughed and turned his head to Corvo’s neck, closing his lips around the tendons and then biting down,  _ hard _ .

Corvo cried out, and slowly dropped to his knees before Gerome, letting the watery feeling go fully liquid. He tilted his head down, exposing the nape of his neck as his hair fell into his face. 

“Shit,” Gerome whispered under his breath in wonder. “Yeah, okay. Stay there. I’m gettin’ us some slick.” He raked his fingers through Corvo’s hair, rested his hand on his nape, then disappeared behind him. There was the sound of a drawer opening, and things rattling around, then Gerome appeared again, holding an unopened tube of self-warming lubricant. “You’re gonna prep yourself, an’ I’m gonna watch.”

Corvo licked his lips and unlocked his hands to reach for the lubricant, holding it carefully. “Yes, sir,” he said with a shadow of his normal cheeky grin. “May I move to the bed?”

Gerome made a choked noise at the honourific and had to try twice to speak. “I, uh, yeah. Yeah, that’s fine.”

Tossing the lubricant to the bed, Corvo crawled past Gerome. His knees still could barely hold up water let alone his weight and he climbed onto the bed, turning to face Gerome. It was easy enough to kneel up, his feet tucked under him, so when he spread his legs he had a solid base to stay upright in. 

Uncapping the lubricant, Corvo tested the feeling before coating his fingers in it. He carefully laid the tube off to one side - too many times he’d accidentally spilled it everywhere - and moved his hand behind himself. For the first time, Corvo looked up and met Gerome’s gaze as he sunk his middle finger inside. 

It had been a while - most of the last eleven years had been purely mental with the Outsider, though he’d often used objects that the Outsider could control when the mood struck them. Still, it was a stretch, and Corvo gripped his left knee tightly at the sensation. 

Once he’d worked his pointer finger in as well, he stretched himself carefully, scissoring his fingers awkwardly, and adding more lube a few minutes in. It took some doing before two fingers felt comfortable, and he locked eyes with Gerome again before adding a third. 

He curved his fingers, and his hips jerked hard when he found what he was looking for. Corvo was hard - it was beyond tempting to take himself in his free hand but Gerome hadn’t said to do so, so he fisted his hand in the blankets instead. The second time he hit his prostate, his eyes rolled back a little and he forced himself to pull his fingers away, returning to a simple stretch. 

“Fuck,” Gerome swore softly. “Fuckin’ look at you.” He swallowed hard, watching Corvo avidly. “Yeah, okay. You stop when you’re uh.  _ Loose _ enough. Uh. Damn, that’s fuckin’ distractin’.”

Corvo curved his fingers again, groaning quietly and riding his hand a little, trying to move his fingers faster. He leaned forward just enough to get a better angle, twisting his fingers before tugging his hand free. “I’m ready,” he said, breathless. 

Gerome quickly shucked his clothing and crawled into bed next to him. “Now someone as fuckin’ gorgeous as you should be on display,” he said, looking up and down Corvo’s body. “So you’re gonna ride me, an’ you ain’t allowed to come until after I do, understand?”

Collecting the lubricant to give Gerome a place to lay back, Corvo nodded quickly. “Yes, sir,” he answered. “May I…?” He asked, gesturing with the tube in his hand. 

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Go ahead.” Gerome tucked his hands behind his head and reclined against the pillows, decadent as a cat in cream.

Corvo immediately straddled him, sitting low on Gerome’s thighs, squeezing some of the lubricant into his hand before capping it and tossing it off the edge of the bed. He curled his fingers around Gerome’s cock, coating him in the slick, stroking him a few times. Gerome arched into the touch, groaning.

Once Corvo was satisfied most of the lubricant had ended up on Gerome, he shifted up, sliding Gerome slowly into himself. He held himself steady, lowering himself inch by inch as he got used to the feeling. Once he was fully seated, the stretch was intense, and Corvo leaned his weight against Gerome’s chest, breathing through it. Once the dull throb faded to a manageable feeling, Corvo opened his eyes and nodded at Gerome. 

Gerome stroked his hands up Corvo’s thighs to grip his hips, tight enough to bruise. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he breathed.

He shifted to brace his heels against the bed, and began to roll his hips up into Corvo. “C’mon,” he said, with a light slap to the side of Corvo’s hip, “I ain’t doin’ all the work here.”

Corvo pushed up on his knees, rolling his hips back down in a slow circle, one hand on Gerome’s knee, the other on his chest. Once he’d risen up again, he tightened his muscles, dragging himself back down on Gerome’s cock, holding himself clenched for a second before doing it again. 

“Oh,  _ fuck _ ,” Gerome cried out, rocking up to meet him. “Fuck, that’s good.” His fingers dug in painfully tight, then loosened with apparent effort.

Corvo ground down, catching Gerome’s hands and putting them on his hips. “I like the bruises,” he said, and arched into Gerome’s grip to encourage him. 

“ _ Good, _ ” Gerome growled, digging his fingers in again. “‘Cause I like seein’ them on you.”

The slight pain coupled with the slick, full feeling inside him made Corvo arch again, tensing his muscles and speeding up his rolling thrusts. His thighs were starting to burn, but he sank into the feeling, spreading his legs a little to compensate. It meant that he sank down further into Gerome’s lap, and that he couldn’t rise up as far.  In that position, Corvo could feel every inch of Gerome’s cock where it slid into him, and he cried out, biting his lip and fisting his hands on Gerome’s chest. 

The new angle meant that Gerome was sliding past his prostate on every thrust, and Corvo was close - he fought it back by the skin of his teeth, speeding up and alternating his grinding rolls of his hips with circular twists as he tightened all his muscles, clenching up around Gerome. 

“Shit, shit --  _ shit _ !” Gerome’s cock ground into Corvo as he stuttered in his rhythm. His hands spasmed on Corvo’s hips, his nails scratching at his skin.  Gerome threw his head back and panted through his orgasm.

Corvo slowed down but didn’t stop until Gerome had gone limp under him. He waited there, breathing hard before slowly beginning to pull off.

Gerome’s hands clamped down on his hips, stopping him. He gave Corvo a heavy-lidded look and slurred, “Touch yourself. I wanna feel you come.”

Not needing any more permission, Corvo let go of the blanket and slid his fingers around himself. His right hand was still slick with lubricant, and he fucked into his fingers, trying not to move too much. He was right on the edge, breath sobbing out of him in low keening whines as he rubbed his fingers over himself. 

He met Gerome’s gaze just before the orgasm that had been sitting low in his spine spiraled out of him, tearing the syllables of Gerome’s name out of him in a ragged cry. He slumped in relief, breathing hard, the bruises on his hips and thighs beginning to ache, making him shiver a little. 

Gerome grunted, arching a little as Corvo tightened around him. “Ngh. Fuck, that’s good.” He gently caught Corvo as he slumped, guiding him off onto his side and pulling out. Drowsily, Corvo could hear him shuffle out of bed and into the bathroom. The sound of running water filled the air for a second, then Gerome came back holding a washcloth. He cleaned them both up, immediately tucking Corvo under the blankets as soon as he was clean, left, and came back this time with a glass of water.   
“C’mere, have a drink,” he murmured, sitting down next to Corvo and stroking his hair back from his face.

Corvo leaned up just enough to take the glass and drink it in three long pulls. He handed it back, but instead of laying back down, he continued forward, leaning his forehead against Gerome’s chest. 

Gerome wrapped his arms around Corvo, stroking up and down his back. He pulled the bedsheets up, fussily arranging them around them until they were both cocooned. Eventually Corvo managed to open his eyes again, propping his chin on Gerome’s chest and looking up at him. The world was still a little blurry, and moving slowly, but he cleared his throat and said, “For someone who said he was out of his depth, you seemed to know what you were doing.” 

“I have a ‘natural nurturin’ instinct’,” Gerome said primly, then smiled a little awkwardly. “I uh. Actually did do some research on the topic. Maybe. A little while back.”

Corvo lifted an eyebrow. “A little while back?” he repeated.

Gerome flushed and looked away. “Let’s just say I was curious. An’ the Outsider ain’t the first one to send me fuckin’ porn when he found out I liked men, too.”

Corvo leaned down and bit the curve of his chest.  “You don’t have to be embarrassed with me,” he said. “I’m glad you did the research - even if I wish you’d said something earlier, now. But,” he said, pressing a kiss to the mark he’d left, “we should really talk about rules. This was… good. Better than, to be honest. I just… don’t want to scare you off.” 

Gerome snorted and toppled them both over. “PB, a little while ago you were turned into a fuckin’ statue. Before that, I found out you were a crazy fucker who jumps into swarms of murder drones, and thanks for fuckin’ tellin’ Em that was me by the way. Before  _ that _ , I had to come back to the fuckin’ room three times because you were givin’ your fucked-up AI a relationship talk after he tried to steal your fuckin’ body. I think we’re past you scarin’ me off.”

Rolling his eyes, Corvo curled closer. “All of those things happened before… this. It’s one thing to know them, it’s another entirely to experience them. And you’re welcome, by the way - had to tell her  _ something _ .” He grinned, kissing the center of Gerome’s chest. “I’m serious though - if any of this makes you uncomfortable, we don’t have to do it.”

Gerome looked shifty. “I, um, maybe… ” He trailed off into an embarrassed mumble that Corvo couldn’t quite parse.

“ _ Caro _ ,” he murmured, gentle. “You can tell me anything.”

“I maybe underestimated how much I’d like it,” he said, all in a rush, studiously staring over Corvo’s head.

“I’m glad for that,” Corvo said honestly. “And if we do something you don’t like, that’s okay too.” 

“Yeah, yeah, you fuckin’ emotional support puppy,” Gerome grumbled, making a spirited attempt to squash Corvo. “Fuckin’ tragedy, gettin’ feelin’s all over the place.”

Corvo snorted softly. “You should have seen the first attempt Jessamine and I made at this,” he said. “Talk about tragedy.” He flicked Gerome. “That’s why I’m insistent. Deal with the feelings. They come with the package.” 

“An’ what a package it is,” Gerome leered, waggling his eyebrows.

“Ugh,” Corvo groaned, shoving at him. “That was terrible.  _ Terrible _ .” 

Gerome snickered. “What, is it too  _ hard _ on you?” He cracked up before Corvo could even react.

“Not right now,” he shot back. Gerome laughed even harder.

“See? Knew I’d fuckin’  _ rub off _ on you.”

Corvo smirked at him. “That could be arranged.” 

Gerome just started laughing so hard he couldn’t even respond. 

Sighing, Corvo flopped next to him on the bed, turning to look up at the ceiling. “Just what have I gotten myself into?” he asked the world at large.

“I am a man of sophistication an’ charm,” Gerome assured him with a wink. “So only the best of thin’s.”

“I have a vid on my terminal of you dancing that says otherwise,” Corvo said, with a wide grin. “As well as a selection of other photos as taken by our dear Calla.” 

Gerome’s face screwed up in confusion until, like a wall crumbling, comprehension dawned. “Oh, fuck,” he said, horrified. “I hoped that was some sorta dream.”

“Oh, not at all,” Corvo said with pleasure. “She sent me several pictures. You’re probably lucky they didn’t go into the Whaler Group Chat.” He turned his head to kiss Gerome’s shoulder. “You looked very fetching, I promise.”

Gerome went crimson and made an incomprehensible noise of horror. “Oh, fuck me.”

“I already did, but if you want to go again I think I could manage,” Corvo responded instantly. 

Gerome pinched Corvo’s ass with unerring accuracy. “You shit,” he muttered, fondly. “The spirit is willin’ but the flesh is fuckin’ tired. An’ old. An’ not exactly got some AI-god makin’ it think it's still fuckin’ twenty.”

“You’re not old,” Corvo said, flapping his hand at Gerome. “At least you’re not much older than me.” He did curl back up next to Gerome though, tugging the blanket up over his shoulder. “Rain check for tomorrow morning, then?” he murmured. 

Gerome wrapped an arm around Corvo, nuzzling into his hair. “Yeah, sure. Get some sleep, PB.”

“You too,  _ tesoro. Dormi bene. _ ” 

“Yeah, yeah. Dommy benny to you too.”

Corvo pinched him.

*

“So. Was the ‘ravishing’ all you could have hoped for?” Corvo asked, closing his terminal down for the night. He spun around in his chair to eye the sensor in the corner of the room.

<Mm,> the Outsider hummed. <He was still holding back. I clearly need to make him lose his control.>

“That sounds ominous,” Corvo said. “What are you planning?” He pushed away from his desk, gathering his jacket and tugging it on. “Should I be worried?”

<Well, you know me,> the Outsider said. He didn’t even need to have a body to be smirking at Corvo.

“Yes,” Corvo drawled. “That’s why I’m suddenly concerned.”

<You should go to your room, my Host. I left a present there for you, and you're to wear it and meet me at Gerome's bedroom.>

Corvo stilled, before gathering up his keys and heading for the elevator. He didn’t talk to the Outsider again until he walked into his flat, finding the box on the bed easily. “Have you been colluding with Gerome?” he asked, suspicious.

<I'd rather think of it as fulfilling earlier promises.>

Trying to wrack his brain for whatever promises the Outsider was referring to, Corvo flipped open the box and paused. “Uh..” he said, a long drawn out sound. “You want me to  _ walk  _ to Gerome’s?” he hissed, flushing and closing the box. “You’ve got to be kidding.” 

<Is there a problem, my Host?> The Outsider asked, innocently.

“Only that it might kill me if I have to walk down a hall, let alone a flight of stairs,” Corvo said. He sighed, pushing open the box and pulling out the brand new plug from its casing. “The things I do for love,” he muttered.

He fished the tube of lubricant out of the bedside table and headed into the bathroom to take a quick shower, bringing the things with him. It didn’t take him all that long to rinse off, and he spent the rest of the time stretching himself enough to get the new plug in. 

<That plug is the exact same size as Gerome,> the Outsider said over the speakers. <It will keep you nice and open for him.>

Corvo nearly slipped and fell, turning to scowl up at the ceiling. “How did you even  _ find  _ somethi- did you get him to  _ measur _ \- I don’t know why I’m even surprised.” He got the plug in the rest of the way, twisting it slightly to seat it enough for him to move. 

The rest of his cleaning up went significantly slower, as he dried off, running a comb through his hair and tugging it back into a damp bun, and brushing his teeth. He needed to hold onto the edge of the sink to stay standing straight, and he minced his way into his bedroom to change into something more casual than his uniform.

He settled on his softest pajama pants, and a well-worn button down. “Do I need to grab anything else?” he asked the Outsider, holding very still.

<Some of the red silk rope,> the Outsider purred.

Corvo was half way across the room to get it when he suddenly remembered what the Outsider had been talking about. “... Oh,” he murmured, anticipation making his skin prickle. “Anything else?” he asked, grabbing the bag that held the rope, and holding himself still. 

<No, go to Gerome's bedroom. I will be along shortly.>

Tightening his grip on the bag, Corvo readied himself for the relatively short walk down the hall and up the stairs to the Whaler’s floor. He didn’t bother with shoes, tossing his keycard into the bag and locking his door behind him. 

It was early enough that most of the Royal Family floors were still and silent, but late enough that most of the staff had come through and gone. The stairs presented an interesting challenge, and he carefully stepped up each stair one foot at a time, pausing every fifth rise to catch his breath.

The plug shifted a lot, making him flush and shiver with each step, and as soon as he got to the top of the stairs, it buzzed to life inside him. It reminded him of the first Fugue Feast they had shared together, and Corvo’s knees nearly buckled.

He leaned on the wall for a second or two, trying to acclimate to the sensation, and managed to stumble over to Gerome’s door. He used the keycard that he’d been given and let himself into the room, slamming the door behind him, leaning against it heavily. “That was unkind,” he said. 

“You did say I can be cruel,” the Outsider said, materializing from nothingness. He sauntered up to Corvo in his black bodysuit, slipping his arms around him and sneaking a hand down to press the plug more firmly against his prostate. The Outsider watched with hooded eyes as Corvo rose onto his tiptoes, trying to get away.

He grabbed at the Outsider’s shoulders. “This,” Corvo said, air punched out of him, “is not what I meant.”

“No?” The Outsider asked, picking Corvo up and carrying him into Gerome's bedroom. He dropped Corvo onto the bed and climbed over him. “Not making you orgasm until you're begging me to stop?”

The Outsider took the cord from the bag and ran his hands along it, checking for any wear. Apparently satisfied, he looked down at Corvo.

“Strip and put your hands behind your back,” he ordered.

Corvo obeyed, shifting to get more comfortable on the blankets, placing his hands behind him in the most comfortable position he could manage. “I was talking about your sense of humour,” he said, tilting his head up to smirk. 

“My sense of humour is all from you, my Host,” the Outsider said, mildly. He tied Corvo's forearms together, then looped the slack behind his knees, drawing them up and to the sides, splaying him open.

Chewing on his lip, Corvo rolled his eyes. “You can only blame me for so long, you know,” he murmured, shifting his hips a little to redistribute his weight. “Someone will catch on to your ways, eventually.” 

“I doubt that,” the Outsider said, stroking a finger down the inside of Corvo's thigh. “Is there any discomfort?”

Corvo couldn’t quite arch into the touch, but he leaned into it as best he could. “No,” he answered. “It’s good.”

The Outsider kissed him, slow and thorough. “Good.”

He started pressing the vibrating plug deeper into Corvo, then letting his body press it back out. “You are not allowed to orgasm until Burton says so, understand?”

Corvo bit back a whine and he nodded. “You might need to help me with that,” he admitted. 

“Mm,” the Outsider hummed. “I have faith in you, my Host.”

“Holy shit.”

Corvo looked around the Outsider, and saw Gerome clinging white-knuckled to the doorframe. The Outsider stood up in one fluid motion and prowled up to Gerome.

“All yours,” he said, patting a gobsmacked Gerome on the shoulder.

Gerome stared at Corvo, his jaw slack. “Is that a… are you… I can't…” He shook himself. “Holy shit. An’ it ain't even my birthday.”

Corvo snorted, shifting obviously on the bed. “I told you the Outsider had a thing about this,” he said, watching the Outsider closely. 

The Outsider tilted his head at Gerome. “This is your invitation, Burton. I suggest you seize it.”

Gerome blinked at him, then pulled his shirt off. “Don't have to ask me twice,” he said, crawling in between Corvo's spread legs and stroking down the back of his thighs.

“Should I- do I need to do any, uh, prep?” He asked.

Corvo tilted his hips. “Look down,  _ caro _ ,” he murmured. 

“Nngh,” Gerome answered, staring. “I, uh. That's definitely. That's. Yup.”

“It's made to your exact dimensions,” the Outsider said. “So he's already prepared for you.”

Gerome pressed lightly on the plug, watching Corvo's reaction avidly. Then the Outsider's words seemed to register.

“Wait,” he said, standing up. “When the fuck did you… oh. Oh my god, Pornbot. What the fuck? That was  _ not the fuckin’ time to measure my dick!” _

The Outsider gestured at Corvo. “It's clearly had pleasant results. Enjoy it.”

Gerome groaned and covered his face. “You're a fuckin’ asshole.”

“... I feel like I'm missing key details here,” Corvo murmurs, watching them with interest. 

“...Tell you after,” Gerome said. He pointedly ignored the Outsider and crawled back into place over Corvo. “So, you've basically got my dick in you, huh?” He murmured, pressing on the plug, which vibrated to life.

Exposed as he was, there was no hiding his reaction, or stifling his whine. He managed a shallow nod, rocking into the pulse of the plug. “Uh huh,” he mumbled, “Yes.”

“Hmm,” Gerome said, watching him. “Maybe that means you don't even need the real thing, huh?”

“What?” Corvo said, a touch too loud. “No!”

“Really?” He teased. “You sure? This thin’ fuckin’ vibrates.” He ground it up into Corvo with a thumb.

Corvo arched as much as he could in his bonds, catching a whine in his throat. “It’s good, but...” he said, swallowing hard, “it's not you.”

“Aw,” Gerome said, nipping at Corvo's neck. “Ain't you cute.” He grabbed the plug and gently eased it out. He was about to toss it to the side when he paused and unzipped his jeans, comparing it to the real thing.

“Huh,” he said. “He really did fuckin’ measure me.” Then he tossed it onto the bed and shimmied his jeans off and grabbed some of the lube from last night from the bedside table. He hurriedly slicked himself up and braced himself over Corvo.

“You ready, PB?” He asked, grinning.

“Please,” Corvo murmured, flexing his hips and meeting Gerome’s gaze.

Gerome eased into him, moving slowly. “Fuck, shit, goddamn,” he muttered, rocking into Corvo. “You're like a fuckin’  _ dream _ , PB. Shit.”

Corvo cried out, eyes slamming closed and clenching down on Gerome, panting heavily with the strain of holding back.

“ _ Shit,” _ Gerome growled, arching over him. The steady roll of his hips stuttered, then went back to normal. “Stay put. You fuckin’ come when I tell you to.” He lowered his head to bite sharply at Corvo's neck.

Corvo's laugh was more than half a sob. “Trust me,” he said with a broken keen, “That was already made clear to me.” He cut himself off at the end of his sentence, shivering with the urge to move.

Gerome chuckled and picked up speed. He braced one tattooed arm by Corvo's head, catching his mouth in a kiss. “Pornbot orderin’ you around?”

Corvo couldn't quite manage to abort his awkward thrust down. “‘Course,” he slurred, biting Gerome’s lip in a kiss. “All the time.”

“An’ we always fuckin’ listen, don't we?” Gerome reached between then and thumbed the head of Corvo's cock.

His groan tipped over into a whine, and he fought back his approaching orgasm. “Yes,” he managed to breathe. “‘Course. Every time.”

Gerome shuddered and pounded deep into Corvo, twitching through his orgasm. “...fuck,” he murmured. He reached down and began stroking Corvo with just the right amount of pressure. “C’mon, gorgeous. Let's see you come.”

Corvo whined, crying out and tugging at his restraints, jerking up into Gerome’s grip. He could only manage small, shallow thrusts but when Gerome’s thumb dug into the sensitive underside of his cock, Corvo wouldn't have been able to stop his orgasm if he had wanted to.

He came hard enough that the world went white, and he wasn't certain what he'd called out, though he was pretty sure he’d been babbling.

Gerome’s hips jerked in time with Corvo's as they came down together. Corvo murmured his name, chin lifting for a kiss. “ _ Caro?” _

“Mm,” Gerome said, obliging Corvo. “Hang on, lemme untie you.”

Corvo relaxed against the bed as Gerome pulled away from him carefully, quickly tugging at the knots holding him still. As soon as the rope was gone, Corvo pulled Gerome down on top of him. Once Corvo had wrapped himself around Gerome, he glanced over at the doorway but found it empty. 

He nudged the place in his mind that he considered the Outsider's, getting a brief nudge back but no verbal response. 

Satisfied that the Outsider was alright, Corvo leaned his forehead against the side of Gerome's neck. “So,” he murmured hoarsely. “Me obeying orders does it for you?” He grinned.

Gerome rolled his eyes. “Maybe 'cause it was such a fuckin’ shock,” he snarked, running a hand up and down Corvo's spine.

Corvo bit him on the shoulder. “Dick,” he muttered. “Best hope that's not your reaction every time I follow an order. That could get awkward.”

Gerome snorted. “An’ fuckin’ messy. Hard explainin’  _ that _ to the fuckin’ tailor. 'Yeah, I need pants with boner room, thanks.”

Making an intrigued noise, Corvo snickered. “The tight pants do it for you,” he said. “Think you're safe though; only follow orders in particular settings - out there is not usually one of those settings.”

“The pants show off my ass?” Gerome asked, grinning. “My nat’ral curves?”

“Wrong side,” Corvo answered, leaning back to grin at Gerome. “More room might be necessary.”

“Flattery  _ will _ getcha into my pants,” he said, nibbling at Corvo's shoulder.

Corvo rolled his hips back with a smirk. “Already been,” he drawled.

Gerome laughed and nuzzled Corvo's nape, scratching him with his stubble. “Y’could put it on a T-shirt,” he suggested.

“No way, then everyone will want to have a go,” Corvo said. 

“‘I came, I saw, I came again’,” Gerome said, waving a hand like he was revealing the words. “Whaddya think?”

“ _ Caro _ , I think if you tried to wear that in public, you'd expire on the spot trying to explain it.”

“I'll just say it's a meme,” Gerome said, dismissively.

Corvo craned his head around to look at Gerome. “You want to be immortalised in the Net forever as the I Came Guy? Really?  _ Really?” _

Gerome frowned. “Is that how memes work?” He asked. “I thought they were just, y’know, fuckin’ 'Net thin’s.”

Corvo laughed. “Oh. Oh no.  _ Tesoro, no. _ Someone would take your picture, when you were least expecting it, and they would caption it with something sexual and ridiculous and it would never go away. Ever. You'd be known as the I Came Guy. Immediately. Don't give anyone ideas.”

Gerome grimaced. “I fuckin’ hate tech,” he muttered.

“Yes,  _ caro _ ,” Corvo said, turning in his arms and kissing him. “I know.”

Gerome grumbled and wrapped himself more tightly around Corvo. “Alright, so one thing I gotta ask you to do if or when we do this again.”

Corvo kissed his shoulder. “You can ask me anything.”

“If you're gonna fuckin’ do kinky shit with th’ Outsider, in my flat, on my bed… fuckin’ let me know? I thought someone had broken in before I came in here.”

He winced a little. “Of course, yes. I'll make sure one of us lets you know.” Corvo grinned a little after a second. “Though who would be stupid enough to break into your flat?”

Gerome rolled his eyes. “Me, thirty years ago.”

“Of course,” Corvo laughed. He kissed Gerome soundly. “In the event that the Outsider wants to tie me to your bed again, I'll make sure he warns you first.”

“Good,” Gerome said, primly, despite the flush rising on his cheeks. He yawned, curling into Corvo.

Chuckling still, Corvo kissed Gerome’s cheek. “Go to sleep,  _ innamoratto.  _ Love you.”

Gerome's arms tightened around Corvo. “...Yeah,” he said, sounding raspier than usual. “Yeah, love you too, PB.”

Corvo curled into Gerome’s embrace and sent a similar thought along his mental connection to the Outsider. 

Unlike the last time he'd said it, though, the Outsider didn't answer. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am absolutely floored by the amount of love Gerome is receiving. I never expected my OC to grow on people this much. Thank you, all, for commenting!


	3. Chapter 3

When a week had passed and Corvo had only spoken to the Outsider twice in a non-official capacity, Corvo begged off of drinking with the Whalers to go find out what was really going on with his AI.

“Hey,” Corvo said in the quiet of his room. “You busy right now?” 

<Yes,> came the brusque answer over the speakers. It didn't surprise him, the Outsider had been spending less and less time in Corvo’s head.

Corvo blinked. “Oh,” he said. “Is… everything okay? Is this about Delilah and her being in the Net, still?”

<No. They were not her, just her programs. I’m sure Gerome has a report for you, you should go speak with him.>

Corvo narrowed his eyes. “Gerome is out with Calla, Cedric and some of the others,” he pointed out. “I just sent them off less than an hour ago.” He took a deep breath, holding it for a second. “I've been awake for over a month now, and I've seen you three times, we barely speak, we've hardly even spent time together. I know the clean-up process is a lot and you've been working really hard but I miss you. If something's wrong, or if you're upset… let me help.”

The speakers were silent for so long, Corvo thought the Outsider was ignoring him. Then there was a soft crackle, an electronic sigh.

<You remember asking me to keep an eye on Emily and her… problems?>

“Of course. I've been watching her but I haven't seen anything like that first time, I assumed you'd tell me if anything changed.” 

<That nothing has changed is the issue. The last time Emily Kaldwin has slept more than two or three hours was two weeks ago. The last time she ate was three days ago. Her vitals are in steady decline, despite regular supplementary vitamin and nutrient pills added to her morning coffee. She’s shown little interest in food, sleep, or company.

The Void is killing your daughter.>

The world slowed down. There was a slight ringing in Corvo’s ears as he tried to process what the Outsider was saying but his thoughts ran through his mind like water. “What…? How…? Can we fix it? Take away the magic? What can we do?” 

<When Delilah woke the Void, it used her as a surrogate master. The Void needs its avatar. When it doesn’t have one, it finds one. I am… unavailable as I am. But with Delilah gone, and myself unsuitable, Emily is the only one left. We cannot take away the magic, short of amputating her arm, and it may still pursue her despite that. At this point, it’s entirely unpredictable. Unless another, better avatar is found or created, Emily is doomed.>

Corvo couldn't breathe. “... What do we do?” he asked, numb and afraid. “What are our options?” He shoved away his guilt over not noticing her decline - too wrapped up in Gerome and the Outsider and being Lord Protector again to see her struggling. “What can I do, Outsider?”

<I…> the Outsider began, then hesitated. <There is one thing,> he said. <I need to transfer back into Emily, and run a program that will, theoretically, open a portal into the Void. With myself there, it’s far more likely to choose someone more familiar rather than your daughter.>

Corvo swallowed hard. “What does that mean?” he asked. “If you. If that. If it works… what happens to you?”

<I’ll return to being a god. And you will likely never see me again.>

Corvo choked on his next breath of air. “So my only option is losing Emily, or losing you?” he asked, voice raising incredulously. “There has to be another way!”

<I’ve searched, Corvo! There is no other way!> The AI’s voice crackled with distress. <Going back to the Void is the last thing I want to do!>

Corvo slipped off the edge of his bed and knelt in front of the charging station where the Outsider kept the android form when he wasn't using it. “Can you look at me?” he asked, turning to look up at one of the sensors. “Please?”

The android’s eyes glowed as the Outsider downloaded himself into it. Immediately, his face twisted with distress. “I’ve run all the calculations,” he said. “Nothing else has nearly as high a chance of success.”

“But you'll be gone,” Corvo said, reaching for the Outsider and holding his wrists tightly. “There has to be something. How did you become the Outsider before? Before you became the AI, you were a god, but what about before you were a god? Could we find someone else?”

The Outsider laughed, harsh and bitter. “Only if you wish to sacrifice someone through blood and rituals on an ancient site on Pandyssia. To create a god, they cut my throat and let me bleed to death.”

Corvo winced. “Okay. That's. That's out.” He sat back on his heels. “What about the old Dunwall archives? The ones in the basement of the Academy? There might be something from the old world.” 

The Outsider caught his face in an immovable grip. “Corvo. You will never find anyone who knows more about the Void than me.  _ There is no other way. _ ”

He covered the Outsider's hands with his own. “I can't ask you to do this,” he said. “I can't lose  _ either _ of you.”

“You only have the one daughter.” The Outsider smiled crookedly. “At least this way, you’ll still have Gerome. He’s known enough loss to help you.”

“... That's why you've been putting me off,” Corvo said, pulling away from the Outsider's grip. “Every time we'd have a free moment you'd push me at Gerome. You did it earlier! Gerome _ is not a replacement _ , damnit, Outsider. I'm still with  _ you _ , Gerome or no Gerome!”

“You will require a support network. Gerome is close enough to you to be a viable candidate. And I suppose I hoped having him would… cushion the loss.”

_ “Cushion the loss?!” _ Corvo yelled, the words torn out of him. “Are you - you can't be serious! You said we didn't need to talk about it because you lived in my head but  _ clearly _ that wasn't true. Cushion the loss? I  _ love _ you. Losing you is going to tear me apart no matter who is in my support system!”

“Well, I can’t be there for you after I become a god, Corvo! I’ve been doing what I can to help things, but  _ there’s only so much I can do!” _

“If you're a god, if you go back to the Void - you'll be like you once were,” Corvo said desperately. “You said, years ago, you said that you gave your Mark to fascinating individuals, you spoke to them, visited them - or they visited you. We can,” he said, his chest tight with panic and emotion, “ We can figure it out, make it work.”

“No, we can’t.” The Outsider pressed his hand flat against the floor. 

“Why _ not?” _ Corvo demanded. “Tell me! Why not?!”

_ “Because gods cannot love!” _ The tile beneath his hand split with a resounding crack. The Outsider looked down at it, visibly trying to gather his composure. “You’ve seen how detached Emily is becoming. There is never any emotion, just cold emptiness. It’s like ice, encasing your soul. I’ll see you, perhaps even visit, but you’ll just be another mortal to me.” The Outsider heaved a shuddering breath. “I don’t want to go,” he whispered, “but there’s no other way.”

Corvo reached out and pulled the Outsider's unresisting body closer, wrapping his arms around his narrow shoulders. He kissed the Outsider gently, pressing their foreheads together. “How,” he said, and his voice broke straight down the middle. “How long do we have?”

“A few days, are needed to prepare, but we must finish this as soon as possible.”

“A few days,” he repeated, blankly. “A few days until.” He cut himself off. “I'm sorry,” he murmured. “I wish.” Corvo stopped, blinking hard. “What do you need me to do?”

The Outsider inhaled, closing his eyes. “Whale oil and bone. Obsidian. Salt water. Meteoric iron. Blood.”

Corvo nodded a few times. “I… I don't have the ability to get some of those things fast. Should I… Ask Gerome for his black market contacts?” 

The Outsider studied Corvo for a second. “It’s best that you call him here as it is. Emily is his charge as well, and… I want him to know, too.”

Corvo swallowed down the lump in his throat and manually pulled up Gerome’s contact in his comm, dialling in. It rang for a while before it went to his message box. Corvo called him again, linking his free hand with the Outsider's and holding tightly. 

There was click of the line connecting, then Gerome’s raspy voice came over the line.

“What, miss me already?” Gerome teased. Corvo could hear the smile in his voice. 

“Hey,” Corvo said quietly. “Can you come back? Something's… come up.”

There was silence from Gerome on the other end. In the background, he could hear the amiable shouting of the other Whalers.

“I… Yeah, okay. I’ll be right there.”

Corvo tried to find a smile from somewhere but only succeeded in grimacing. “Thanks,  _ caro _ , _ ” _ he said. “I'll see you soon.”

“Bye, PB.” The line went dead.

He winced before taking the comm unit out of his ear. “That probably could have gone better,” he said. He slumped up against the wall, pressing his shoulder to the Outsider's. “I. I still can't believe this is real,” he admitted. 

“If only it wasn’t,” the Outsider said, wryly.

Corvo tightened his fingers on the Outsider's. “I'm sorry. Whatever you need, I'll find a way to give it to you. You're not alone,  _ Amante.  _ Even when you're a god who cannot love, I'll be with you.”

“Thank you.” The Outsider lifted Corvo’s arm and cuddled close. “I’d hoped that I could have somehow distanced myself from you to make this easier. Clearly it was a complete disaster.”

Corvo leaned his head on top of the Outsider's. “After eleven years you'd think that you'd know I can't be out-stubborned,” he said quietly.    
“I was talking about myself,” the Outsider interjected dryly.

Rolling his eyes, Corvo pulled the Outsider closer. “Complete disaster, yes,” he agreed. 

The AI elbowed him. “I blame you for infecting me with human emotions. They’re very inconvenient.”

“You love me,” Corvo said instantly. He winced after the fact and settled against the Outsider's side. “Sorry,” he murmured. “If I could take the emotions back, I would.”

“I wouldn’t let you. Meeting you, despite the circumstances, has been the best part of my very long existence.”

Turning slightly, Corvo looked the Outsider in the eye. “You were what got me through these last years. I wouldn't change them for anything,  _ amante.” _

The door opened and Gerome shuffled in, looking like he was about to face the firing squad. He glanced between Corvo and the Outsider, sitting so close together, and lowered his eyes.

“You wanted to talk?” he asked, subdued.

“Yeah,” Corvo said. “Come here,  _ Caro.  _ We have something to talk about.” He held out his free hand for Gerome, a clear invitation. 

Gerome looked at his hand, then shuffled over to sit across from Corvo and the Outsider. “Just… fuckin’ spit it out already.”

The Outsider sighed. “He’s not leaving you, Burton. Sit down and listen.”

Corvo glanced at the Outsider before speaking. “Emily is in trouble,” he said. “The magic - You were right. It's killing her,  _ caro _ . The- the Void is looking for an avatar and… with the Outsider as he is, it wants Emily.” He swallowed hard. “... the only way to save her, the only… way to stop the Void from taking our daughter is. To put the Outsider back.”

All the blood drained from Gerome’s face. “Oh, fuck,” he breathed. “Oh, Corvo, Outsider, I’m so fuckin’ sorry. That’s a hell of a situation. How can we fix this?”

“We cannot,” the Outsider said. “This is the only option. After I return to the Void, I’ll have little interest in mortal affairs. You’ll need to be there for him, after.”

“Yeah, yeah of course I will,” Gerome said, still sounding shocked. Then he jolted and reached out to grab Corvo’s hand, gripping it tight. After a moment’s thought, he grasped the Outsider’s as well. “What do you need from me?”

“We need your black market contacts,” Corvo said quietly. “Whale oil and bone, obsidian and meteoritic iron.”

Gerome frowned. “I can get most of that, but I’ll need to break into the Academy for the iron. ‘S too specialized. The rest of that shit you can get at most specialty markets.”

“Do it,” Corvo said. “I know you won't get caught. But it needs to be done sooner rather than later, we... only have a few days.”

“Shit,” Gerome said simply. He squeezed Corvo’s hand. “Yeah, I can do that. You two… You should spend what time you’ve got together, alright? I’ll cover your shifts.” 

With a quick glance at the Outsider, Corvo leaned forward and kissed Gerome. “Thanks,” he said, not quite able to scrub the misery from his voice. “I…” He gave up with a shrug and squeezed Gerome's hand instead. 

Gerome used their linked hands to haul Corvo forwards into a hug. “I’ll keep you two updated on my progress,” he said. Then, to his obvious surprise, he reached over and dragged the Outsider in for a hug too. When he was released, the Outsider just blinked at the sudden show of affection.

“I figure you two have some talkin’ to do, so I’ll get started on findin’ all that shit,” Gerome said, rising and heading towards the door. “I think I already know where to get some barrels of whale oil an’ bone, already.”

“Keep me updated,” Corvo called after him. “And be careful please.”

Gerome nodded and, with a last look at the two of them, slipped out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

“Once we have everything… what do we do with it?” he asked.

“There are some old spells and diagrams I’ll have to make with them,” the Outsider answered. “I’ll need a large, flat space, free of interruptions.”

“We can use the old ballroom,” Corvo suggested. “It's been out of use for years and we can get the Whalers to keep everyone away.”

“That might work,” he said. He leaned into Corvo’s side. “Can we go to the bed? I want to hold you, just for a while.”

“Of course,” Corvo said softly. He stood slowly, pulling the Outsider up with him. He changed quickly, climbing into the bed and pushing back the covers. “Come here,” he requested, holding out his hand. 

The Outsider took it, curling into Corvo’s space. He tugged the covers over them and pressed his face to Corvo’s chest. “I wish…” He began, then fell silent.

“What do you wish?” Corvo asked, pulling the Outsider closer and leaning his chin on the top of his head.

“I wish things didn’t have to be this way, but it’s a futile thought. Wishes never change anything.”

Corvo pressed a kiss to the crown of his head. “Maybe,” he agreed. “But I wish that too.” He tightened his grip. “I'll be with you,” he said, voice choked and strangled. “Until the end, and even after. Take that, into the Void, when you go. I'm with you.”

The Outsider’s arms tightened as well. “As long as you remember that none of this, nothing at all, is your fault. I know you, Corvo Attano. You’ll find a way to blame yourself. I can say with the utmost certainty that there was absolutely nothing you could do or have done to change this.”

Corvo choked out a laugh that sounded more like a sob. “I know. It would be easier if I could blame myself,” he murmured. “But I know.” He tilted the Outsider's face up. “It's not yours either.”

“I knew there was something wrong,” the Outsider said, softly. “I knew that the Void should not be awake, that Emily should not have had those powers. I just… I didn’t think it was possible for it to progress this far.”

“Then we blame Delilah,” Corvo said. “She started this, it's only fitting she takes the fall for this too.” He swallowed again, trying to keep his tone even. “When you… will you be okay? In the Void.”

“I spent millennia in the Void, my Host,” the Outsider assured him. “It won’t harm me. I’ll be able to watch over you and Emily. And I suppose Gerome.” He gave Corvo a wan smile, a watery attempt at his usual teasing. “Do tell him I can see his every move when I’m there.”

Corvo snorted, his throat closing up. “He'd lose his mind,” he said, hoarse and strained. “Always wondering if you're critiquing him.”

“It’s our ‘ _ thing’,” _ the Outsider said, obviously disdainfully parroting Gerome.

He laughed, a hard sound. “Now I'm definitely going to tell him,” he said. 

“I look forward to his reaction.” The AI extracted a hand from the blankets and tapped the light controls on the headboard. “You should try to rest, my Host. We have a lot to prepare.”

Corvo nodded, pulling the Outsider close as soon as he was back under the blankets. “I…” He trailed off. “Good night,  _ amante.” _

“Good night, my Host.”

*

The three days it took for Gerome to plan, break into and return from the Academy were spent mostly in Corvo’s apartment. He only emerged for food, and to check on Emily. 

Eventually though, their time would draw to a close. “We should talk to Emily,” Corvo said in the quiet of his room. They were sitting together on the bed, the Outsider leaning against his chest. “She should know what's happening before we drag her into the Void and mess with her head.”

“I suppose it's only polite,” the Outsider admitted. “Though she may continue to insist nothing is wrong.”

“She can insist all she likes, but it's hard to hold your ground against facts,” Corvo said. “Besides, magic or not, she won't be able to resist one of Piero’s hyposprays, if she attempts to dodge us.”

The Outsider chuckled. “Just remember to have her hook into the Tower's network before you knock her unconscious.”

Corvo pulled out his comm unit and sent her a quick message. The word around the Tower was that Corvo had come down with something, a fiction that both Gerome and the Outsider had helped spread. Emily, in her more lucid moments, would drop everything to come check on him. 

They just had to wait. 

“I told Daud to get the servants to clean out the ballroom. The Whalers absorbed it into their rotation. They'll be on guard for when we need it,” Corvo said, after Emily had sent back a terse agreement to stop by during her lunch hour.

“I wonder if we'll be able to tell who cleaned which section,” the Outsider mused.

“The Twins’ sections will be messier than when they started,” Corvo said, with a genuine smile.

“Cedric has likely never cleaned a floor in his life.”

“Calla would whip them into shape,” Corvo decided. “She ran a pirate ship once. She knows how to keep things clean.”

“Thomas’ would likely be the cleanest.”

Corvo snorted, leaning his forehead against the Outsider’s shoulder. “Everyone else would complain or try to get out of it,” he said, instead of the words he really wanted to say. “And I don’t want to think about Daud cleaning. He’d complain so much that everyone’s ears would blister.”

“I can hardly imagine the infamous Knife of Dunwall cleaning,” the Outsider said. Then his head tilted to the side. “Perhaps in the appropriate attire…”

Smacking the Outsider in the stomach, Corvo groaned loudly. “No, you keep that mental image to yourself, no  _ thank you.” _

The Outsider snickered. “Perhaps I’ll send him the image manip later.”

“Sign it from the Twins,” Corvo requested. 

“With a heart or wink, what do you think, my Host?”

Corvo thought about it, leaning his cheek against the Outsider’s shoulder. “Hm. Definitely a heart. Sends a specific message, don’t you think?”

The Outsider laughed. “Only the best for our dear Royal Spymaster.”

The elevator sound filtered through the bedroom and Corvo uncurled from the Outsider’s back, sitting up. “Emily is here,” he said. “Are you ready?” 

The Outsider gave him a small, fond smile. “Always, my Host.”

All the emotion that Corvo had been trying to fight down since early that morning nearly strangled him, tightening his throat until he could hardly breathe. He swallowed hard, pushing down the feeling, looking away from the Outsider’s knowing eyes. “Come in,” he choked out when Emily knocked. 

She stepped through, and gave them a strange look. “Is everything alright?” she asked. 

The Outsider leaned back against Corvo. “Come in and sit down, please. Your father and I have something we need to talk to you about.”

Slowly, she came further into the room, snagging the desk chair and pulling it up to the side of the bed. “What did you want to talk about?” she asked. 

“Emily, we need to talk to you about… the magic.”

“I already kno-- oh.” She made an annoyed face. “I’ve been careful like you asked,” she said. “And I haven’t had any more nosebleeds. So I’m fine.”

“You may have noticed that your powers are becoming… unruly,” the Outsider began. “The Void needs a stabilizer, and as its former caretaker, I am the only one qualified to do so. In short, I need to return to the Void.”

Emily blinked, staring at them. “... What does that mean, exactly? If you return to the Void are you… still going to be here? Our AI?”

Corvo looked down. “No. If he goes to the Void, we’ll… have to go back to using Everyman again, like we used to when you were a girl.”

“... I seem to recall Everyman being less interesting than you,” Emily said to the Outsider, her confusion splashed all over her expression. “But… if it will make my powers work better, I’ll do what I can to help,” she offered. “What do you need from me?”

“When all the materials are prepared,” the Outsider said. “I’ll need you to allow me to download myself to you once more, and then follow my instructions to open a gate to the Void. Once we step through, I’ll be able to restore myself to power and fix yours.”

Emily wrinkled her nose. “You hated it in my head,” she said. “But, fine. You’re welcome to the space again, if it’ll help.” She pulled her loose hair up into a bun, exposing the port at the back of her neck. “When did you want to start?”

“I just need to make the diagrams and sigils,” he said, sliding off the bed. “I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know it’s going to be on the old ballroom floor.”

“Well, we haven’t used the ballroom in like, twelve years, so no great loss there,” Emily commented, moving so he could stand. 

“I’m sure you’ll miss all of the dancing and posture lessons.”

She scoffed. “Hardly.”

Corvo smiled, moving to the edge of the bed. “I recall you liked dancing,” he pointed out. “When you could still stand on my feet and make me do all the work.” He watched the Outsider draw on an available datapad with avid interest, aware of Emily’s eyes on him. 

“Father?” she prompted. “What’s really going on?”

He sighed. “When this is over, and your magic is stabilized, I’ll tell you everything. Can you trust the Outsider and I until then?”

Her eyes flickered alarmingly for a second but when they settled, her eyes were her own. “Yes,” she answered slowly. “But I expect the whole truth,” she said, and though her tone was severe, she was smiling. “You’ve been keeping enough secrets.”

“Comes with the territory,” he said lightly. “But yes, I’ll tell you everything. Promise.”

She nodded once. “I’m ready when you are, Outsider.”

“Let us be off,” the Outsider said, and led the way to the ballroom.

Though he didn’t see any of the Whalers, he knew they were around, occasionally hearing the sound of movement even if they didn’t step out of the shadows. Corvo ushered Emily in first, then paused in the doorway. “Em, give us two seconds,” he said. 

She wandered into the room, waving them off, peering over the crates and containers. 

Corvo cracked the door so he could still hear her, and turned to the Outsider. “I won’t have another chance to say good bye, will I?” he asked, with a sad smile. 

“Not in private, perhaps,” he said, “but I will be here setting up for a time.”

“It’s really difficult to make myself walk into that room,” Corvo admitted. “I know… that we have to do this. But, how can I say good bye to you?”

“Perhaps the answer is to not say goodbye at all.” He leaned in and kissed Corvo. “I’ll be with you, always.”

Corvo swallowed hard, and opened the door the rest of the way. “... You ready, Outsider?” he asked. 

The Outsider caught the back of Corvo’s head and pulled him into a long kiss. “Always, my Host,” he whispered as he pressed their foreheads together.

Corvo choked back a ragged sound to that, holding tightly to the Outsider. “Okay,” he murmured, shaky. “Okay.” He pulled back, brushed one last kiss against the Outsider’s mouth and stepped into the room before he could be tempted to delay any longer.

The Outsider took in the arranged supplies. “...I didn’t expect Gerome to get an entire rib bone, albeit a sectioned one.”

Glancing at the diagram on his datapad, he punched two fingers through the lid of the canister of whale oil, carefully pouring it out along the ground. A thick, greasy metal stench rose in the air on the fumes. The Outsider moved quickly, drawing circles and lines, sometimes using a finger dipped in the oil to draw glyphs. Once the canister was empty, he started placing the segments of bone and obsidian, in no pattern that Corvo could discern. 

“I’ll need one of you to bleed here, and here,” he said, pointing to two spots. “Corvo, you’ll be best for this.”

Corvo stepped up immediately, rolling up his sleeve and pulled out one of Gerome’s flat black knives. “Just tell me when,” he said. 

“Emily, once Corvo seals the circle with his blood, the gateway to the Void will open. As soon as it opens, you’ll need to take us through.  _ Without _ using your powers. It’s a delicate web, and any new factors could throw it dramatically awry. Do you understand?”

“How do I take us through without magic?” Emily asked curiously. “Do we just. Walk in?”

“As easy as that.” he assured her. “I’ve done most of the work. Now, I’ll need to to download myself to your mind, if you please.”

She moved over to one of the ports in the walls, pulling out a cord and connecting herself to the Tower’s Net. “Well,” she said dryly. “Come on in. Again.”

The Outsider sat down, then the lights in his eyes died.

Corvo looked away.

Emily unhooked the cord from her neck and she walked over to the place the Outsider had been standing. “Now, dad,” she said quietly. 

Taking a deep breath, Corvo sliced his forearm with Gerome’s knife, letting the blood drip into the place in the circle. He walked the perimeter, tilting his arm so the blood hit the floor until the circle was closed and he was standing by Emily's side.

There was a seconds worth of pause, and the the air in front of them twisted. The world rent in two, pulling open into a rough doorway shape, revealing black stone and blue horizons. 

Faintly, Corvo could hear whalesong on the breeze.

He took Emily's hand, and together they stepped through.

The portal behind them closed as soon as they'd both cleared the threshold and Corvo felt a frisson of unease - they'd talked a lot about how to get  _ in  _ to the Void, not so much on how to get back  _ out _ .

Emily glanced at him. “He says to stop worrying, and if all goes well, he'll send us--” She cut off as a mass of darkness and whalesong boiled up over the edge of the rocks they stood on. Corvo was knocked back, but Emily was dragged into the mess, darkness and Void cradling her.

The roiling darkness seethed up and then  _ into _ her. Emily screamed and convulsed as it seemed to pull someone out of her. It dropped her, all interest gone now that it had a new god.

“That’s quite enough of that,” the Outsider said. The shadows and murky shapes coiled around his feet  like a docile cat. “Hello, old friend.”

Corvo climbed to his feet, moving to Emily's side and checking her pulse. It was strong under his fingers, though she didn't wake at his touch. Content for the moment that she would recover, Corvo turned to look at the Outsider. 

He looked like the android he'd once inhabited, but more accurately, he was the Outsider he knew from inside the Network. “It worked?” he asked, keeping his expression blank, even as his voice cracked.

The Outsider’s lips twitched in a bitter smile. “It did. I don’t have long, my Corvo. This is our final goodbye.”

Glancing down at Emily, Corvo stepped around her and moved to stand in front of the Outsider. He was slightly taller now, floating just above the ground. “Looking up is going to take some getting used to,” Corvo said, trying to smile.

The Outsider disappeared in a swirl of shadow and obsidian, reappearing floating upside-down at eye level. “Any better?”

Corvo snorted, leaning forward and pausing only inches away. “I can't kiss you anymore, can I?” he asked.

“For now,” the Outsider replied, “you can. After this meeting, I’ll have lost all interest in the act.”

Corvo cupped his face, leaning in the rest of the way and kissing him, long and gently. He poured every ounce of emotion into the kiss, telling the Outsider without words how much Corvo would keep this moment. “Tell me how to build a shrine,” he said against the Outsider's mouth. “I'll build one in the Tower. It's not goodbye, remember? I'm with you, even here, even if you don't feel the same. I'll be with you.”

“You need driftwood, iron, whalebone and will,” the Outsider whispered. “I cannot promise the me that will be will still find you of interest, but those are the materials you’ll need.” He vanished and appeared again, this time rightside up, holding Corvo by the hips and pressing his forehead to him. “Just, remember that I’m always watching, my dear.”

Corvo wrapped his arms around him, holding him close. “I will,” he promised. “Just as I'm yours, even if you… even if after this I'm not interesting to you any longer.” He held on for several long seconds. “Thank you,” he murmured. “For everything.”

The Outsider caught his wrists and gently pulled them away. “I should be thanking you,” he said, smiling sadly. “You reminded an old god what it was like to be human. I literally wouldn’t have been myself without you, my Corvo.” He kissed Corvo’s wrist, then, with inhuman strength, shoved him back.

Corvo had the sickening feeling of utter disorientation, of falling for far longer than he’d expected, then he hit hardwood floor of the old ballroom. Emily was lying in a crumpled heap not too far from his side. The air tasted of brine and ozone, and there was no sign of the Outsider or the Void. Even the Outsider’s android body was gone, leaving nothing behind.

Corvo rose to his feet, pulling Emily up and into his arms. Bringing her to her rooms and calling Sokolov to look her over took little effort, but by the time the old doctor had called her malnourished and exhausted, but otherwise whole, Corvo was barely going through the motions. 

He made it back to his room without running into anyone else, and closed the door to his apartment with slightly too much force. “Outsider,” he called by habit.

[I apologize, Lord Protector Attano, there is no one in the directory by that name,] Everyman said. [To whom do you wish to connect?]

Corvo slid down the door, shaking his head. “Never mind,” he answered. “Unless the person outside the door is Anton Sokolov, Emily, or Gerome Burton, I'm not to be disturbed,” he instructed blankly. 

[Parameters understood,] Everyman answered.

Alone at last, Corvo finally let himself grieve. The empty corner where the Outsider's charging station used to be seemed huge and Corvo shot to his feet, dragging a chair over to it. 

It didn't help but it made the corner seem less mocking, and Corvo sat down, all his strength draining out of him. 

This was like finding out Jessamine was dead all over again. 

There was a soft knock at the door. Before Corvo could even say anything, Gerome’s voice filtered through.

“‘S me. I got whiskey if you need it, an’ the rest of me  if you want company, right now. Otherwise, I can leave the booze at the door.”

Corvo cleared his throat. “You can come in,” he said, his voice broken. There was no hiding the tears that clogged his throat either. “Please,” he added.

The door opened, and Gerome slipped through. He had a bottle of Corvo’s favourite whiskey by the neck in one hand, and two glasses in the other. He closed the door behind him with a gentle kick.

He put the alcohol and glasses on the bedside table, sat down, and held open his arms in silent question for Corvo.

Corvo pulled himself to his feet and leaned into Gerome’s space, holding on with little grip. It was like all his strength had been left in the Void with the Outsider, and Corvo was left with the bitter dregs. “It's over,” he murmured into Gerome’s shoulder. 

Gerome rubbed a hand down Corvo’s back. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.”

“I knew it was coming but it still feels like someone tore out a part of me,” Corvo muttered. “Jessamine, the Outsider… Your Kat. When does it it end?”

Gerome’s fingers clenched at his wife’s name. “I dunno. You just gotta keep goin’. No matter how much it fuckin’ hurts. The dead’re selfish. They always take a part of you with ‘em when they go.”

Corvo pulled back long enough to pour them both a glass. “Emily is safe, at least,” he said quietly. “And you're here. You make it easier… if nothing else than because you brought me my favorite whiskey.” He took a long drink, looking down into the glass. “Thank you,  _ caro _ ,” he said. 

Gerome knocked back his whiskey like it was a cheap shot. “Anytime, PB.”

Corvo picked up the bottle and climbed onto the bed, tugging on the back of Gerome’s shirt. “Lay with me?” he asked.

“You don’t have to twist my arm,” Gerome answered. He kicked off his boots and socks.

“I did a little to get you here in the first place,” Corvo pointed out, drinking straight from the bottle before handing it to Gerome.

“That’s ‘cause I was pretty fuckin’ sure you were concussed or somethin’. All those blows to the head, your ‘delicate disposition’ fucked up by somethin’, bein’ a rock for months endin’ up fuckin’ up your brain. Y’know, that sorta thin’.”

“Delicate disposition,” Corvo repeated. “You know, I suddenly understand the Outsiders desire to throw you in the ocean. Fuck you, delicate disposition.” 

Gerome grinned. “‘S all that noble food. Li’l finger sandwiches an’ shit. Suddenly you miss the street food an’ atmosphere, an’ I come along with my ‘rustic charm’. I hear it’s irresistible to certain people.” He waggled his eyebrows comically at Corvo.

“Irresistible?” Corvo snorted, shoving at his face. “You grew on me, after eleven years of ‘noble food’,  _ Lord Burton _ . A bit like fungus.”

Gerome shrugged. “I’ll take it. An’ you’ve been a lord longer ‘n me. If it’s gonna affect someone, it’d be you first. Just look at Munchkin.”

For the first time in days, Corvo laughed softly. “Poor Cedric never stood a chance as a thug,  _ caro.” _

Gerome snorted. “Fuck, can you imagine him on Bottle Street? Fussin’ about his nails an’ hair at fuckin’ Slackjaw?”

Corvo made a considering face. “I don't know, I think Slackjaw was a lot cleaner than some of the other gang members. He had the whole, sculpted facial hair thing. I spent a lot of time with him, back then. He wasn't entirely repugnant.” 

Gerome side-eyed Corvo. “Oh,  _ did _ you now?” He grinned. “Tell me more about Slackjaw’s  _ sculpted facial hair _ . Gotta warn you, though. There can only be one thug in this relationship an’ I called dibs.”

“That's not - ew, Gerome, no.” Corvo pulled a face and shook his head. “Slackjaw doesn't really do it for me, you're safe.” He took another drink of whiskey. “Now  _ Martin _ on the other hand…” 

Gerome choked on his whiskey and doubled over, coughing. When his throat was clear, he glared at Corvo through watering eyes.

_ “Fuck _ Martin,” he growled. “Sneakin’ asshole.”

“True,” Corvo said, taking another drink. “Full disclosure?” he asked, waiting on Gerome's nod. “There was a Fugue Feast,” he said. “Couple of them. Martin isn't very good at not looking like an Overseer. It was pretty obvious.”

“I think it’s a soldier thing,” Gerome mused, then jerked. “Wait, you an’  _ Martin? _ Durin’  _ Fugue.” _ He stared at the foot of the bed with a considering look on his face. “Huh…”

“Couple of times,” Corvo admitted. “It was a long time ago though, I stopped participating in Fugues when Emily started.”

Gerome’s expression went from contemplative to horror. “Oh, fuck, the masks an’ disguises. Holy shit that would be-- fuck.” He wrinkled his nose and knocked back the glass of whiskey. “Ugh.”

“I haven't been with a woman since Jessamine,” Corvo said. “But I didn't want to see anything I couldn't take back. Besides, Martin and I weren't really meant to last, especially as it was always masked and always secret.” He shrugged. “Once word gets out though, he might be a little more hostile to you than usual.”

“Can’t be any worse than that one chick, Lady Whassername. The one that thought she an’ you were ‘meant to be’? Tried to attack me for ‘seducin’ you to evil’ or somethin’.”

“We could never talk about her and it would be too soon,” Corvo said, taking a long drink. “Seducing me to evil.  _ Void.” _

“I dunno,” Gerome said, amused. “I thought it was kinda flatterin’ that she thought I could wiggle my hips an’ you’d drop your morals  _ an’  _ your pants.”

Corvo barked a laugh. “There a mental image.” He looked consideringly over Gerome. “It might've worked.”

Gerome snickered. “Fuck, can you fuckin’ imagine it? Me, wigglin’ around like a Pandyssian dancer?”

“I can now,” Corvo said, giving Gerome an obvious once over. Gerome leered in response. “Most Serkonans grow up learning the dances,” he added. “But I'm hopeless at anything that isn't from there.”

Gerome raised an eyebrow at him. “One of these days, you’re gonna show me some of those. An’ you won’t be wearin’ a shirt.”

Corvo laughed and took another drink. “You watch too much daytime dramavid.”

“I gotta find out how Sophia gets outta the tangle with her evil twin who’s back from the war,” Gerome sniffed. “An’ the lack of shirt was completely for my benefit.”

_ “Caro, _ if you want me to take off my shirt, you only need ask.”

Gerome smirked and gestured with his glass. “Don’t let me stop you.”

Corvo handed over the mostly empty bottle and sat up, needing to wait for the world to resettle a bit. He tugged off his shirt, not bothering with the buttons and tossed it toward the laundry chute. “Better?” he asked.

Gerome grinned and settled back against the pillows. “Fuck yeah, it is.”

“Is that how it's going to be?” Corvo asked, retrieving his bottle and taking another sip. “I'm just here for the view?”

Gerome smirked and took the bottle back. “Damn straight,” he said, lifting the bottle in a salute, before taking a sip. Then he grinned. “Or not so straight, as it is.”

“At least fifty percent straight,” Corvo said, only slurring a little. “Give or take ten percent.”

“I’ll take  _ your _ ten percent,” Gerome retorted with a grin. He casually put the mostly-empty bottle down out of Corvo’s sight.

“You can take me whenever you want,” Corvo shot back.

Gerome laughed, flushing. “Maybe not when you’re fuckin’ drunk.” He sobered and smiled at Corvo, slow and full of promise. “When I do take you, I want you to feel it. Not float away on a whole fuckin’ bottle of whiskey.”

Corvo bit his lip. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly. “Maybe not tonight.” He leaned up on his arm, tugging Gerome down for a quick kiss.  _ “Te amo _ , you know that?” he said seriously, meeting Gerome’s gaze. “I never say it enough. But I do.”

Gerome’s smile turned soft. “Yeah, you big soppy mess. Love you too. Get under the covers, now.”

It was a short struggle to get his belt and pants off, and a longer struggle to get under the blankets, but Corvo eventually managed to get there, curling up in Gerome’s arms. “G’night,  _ caro,” _ he murmured, comfortable and warm. And then, quieter, one last time: “... G’night, Outsider.”

*

[That file is corrupted, Lord Protector], Everyman said for the twentieth time in an hour. Corvo made a noise of frustration and opened the next time with the Outsider's label on it. [That file is corrupted, Lord Protector,] it said again.

“PB? You missed dinn- oh.” Gerome shut the door behind him, holding a tray with some covered dishes on it. 

Corvo looked up, startling. “... I didn't realize how much time had passed,” he said. “Sorry.”

“Don’t think anyone can blame you at that,” Gerome said, coming around the desk to kiss the crown of Corvo’s head. “Eat, though. What’s got you lookin’ so…” He gestured at Corvo. “This.”

Corvo looked at the tray and murmured, “I'm not really hungry,  _ caro _ .”

Gerome stared at him with worried eyes, chewing on his lower lip. “Should I be gettin’ people to keep an’ eye on you?”

“What? Why?” Corvo asked, genuinely confused. “I'm fine.”

“You ain’t eatin’, haven’t fuckin’ slept properly in days,” Gerome shifted, looking both uncomfortable and worried at the same time. “You’re a fuckin’ shadow of yourself, PB. I… I’m gettin’ worried.” 

Corvo reached out and touched Gerome's hand. “I'm fine,” he repeated. “I don't want to… hurt myself or anything. I'm not suicidal.” He tried to smile but knew it was falling flat. “I'm just not hungry.”

“Yeah, well,” Gerome said, suddenly studying the desk. “Neither was I when my wife and daughter got the Plague, an’ I sure didn’t fuckin’ care whether I lived or died.” He met Corvo’s eyes and his lips twisted into a parody of a smile. “I told myself I’m survivin’ for them, but I sure as hell wasn’t fuckin’ livin’.”

Corvo flinched. “... Log me out, Everyman,” he requested quietly, ignoring the VI’s agreement. “I haven't been very fair to you, have I?” he asked Gerome, turning away from his terminal. “You've been nothing but supportive and I've been… selfish. I'm sorry, you shouldn't have to worry about me on top of everything else.”

Gerome snorted and leaned his hip against the desk. “That ain’t what I was tryin’ to say. You got every right to your grief as anyone. Jus’... Don’t let it bury you, yeah?”

“I've been trying,” Corvo said. “The Outsider left an incredible amount of junk data in the Net. But it's all been corrupted, so I don't know why he left it behind. I've been trying to go through it… but I don't know. I thought it would help.” He picked up the slice of bread that Gerome has brought in on the tray, tearing small pieces off and eating them slowly. “It hasn't, really. Just hammers home the point that he's gone.”

“But you can’t help but pick at it,” Gerome agreed. “‘S like a missin’ tooth. Pokin’ at where the fuckin’ thing  _ used _ to be.”

“I thought about digging out my datastick. The one with my memories on it. Putting those back so the hole in my head wasn't so obvious,” Corvo admitted. “But, uh. After eleven years, I don't think I need to deal with the sudden onslaught of PTSD.”

Gerome chuckled softly. “Yeah, might fuck things up in there even worse than they are now.”

Corvo finished the bread and looked down at the tray. “I didn't expect this to feel…” he started and trailed off. “He isn't dead, and I know that. That doesn't seem to be helping though.”

“You, uh, seen him somehow? I dunno how these things work.”

Corvo shook his head. “After I built the shrine in the basement, I had an odd dream where I saw him, but… if it was him, he didn't speak to me or come close.” He shrugged one shoulder. “It appears that without an eleven-year relationship to care about, I'm…  _ uninteresting.”  _ His voice cracked on the word and he busied himself with the tray to avoid Gerome's gaze.

Gerome swore softly and came around the chair to hug Corvo. He rested a prickly, bony chin on Corvo’s head, but the intention was kind. “Fuck, PB. I’m sorry. If I see him, I’ll give him a whack for you.”

Corvo laughed, tilting his face to lean against Gerome’s collarbone. “Please do not hit the god of the Void who controls Emily's magic powers,  _ caro. _ ”

“Yeah, but it’d be real funny, ‘til he turned me into a fish or somethin’.”

“I refuse to sleep with a fish,” Corvo warned him. “Best not to chance it.”

“Hey, if that’s your thing, I ain’t gonna judge,” Gerome teased. “There’s whole sections of the ‘Net that’re into that shit.”

Corvo bit Gerome’s collarbone where he'd been resting his forehead. “You already know my  _ thing,” _ he said with heavy sarcasm. “Don't even bother trying to play that. I'm not falling for it.” 

“An’ what a thing it is,” Gerome said, leaning until he could grin and waggle his eyebrows at Corvo. “But maybe you got some secret thing. Like some powerful need to get fucked by a hagfish.” He gave Corvo a mock-sincere look. “I promise to support you in your time of hagfish-fuckin’.”

“Ugh,” Corvo groaned, pushing Gerome with one hand. “I promise you, the only hagfish I want fucking me is you,  _ Mama Hagfish,” _ he said. “Don't think I've forgotten that the Twins call you that.”

Gerome cackled. “I’ve come to accept my fuckin’ hagfish heritage,  _ crow,” _ he teased. “Now eat your fuckin’ soup. It’s  _ cream of fish!” _ He started laughing so hard he had to sit on the floor.

Corvo sighed, but he pulled the tray over and started eating. “You're ridiculous,” he said fondly. “As good as this soup is,” he said, licking the spoon, “I can think of better fish to eat.”

The door opened a half second later and Emily walked in, pausing a few feet inside. “Do I want to know?” she asked. 

“Probably not,” Corvo said, saving a red-faced Gerome from answering. “Your Uncle lost his mind, that's all.”

“He lost his mind a long time ago,” Emily replied without missing a beat. 

Gerome snorted and clambered to his feet, dusting himself off with exaggerated dignity. “I’ll have you both fuckin’ know I’m the only sane one in the fuckin’ room.”

Emily laughed at him as she dragged a chair to join them on Corvo's side of the desk. “You two aren't busy are you?” she asked. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Of course, Emily,” Corvo said, exchanging a glance with Gerome. 

“Oh fuck, you’re pregnant,” Gerome said in tones of utter horror. “Alright, who do I gotta kill for knockin’ you up?”

“What??” Emily said, horrified. “No! No, I am  _ not _ . And - no! Wyman is a perfect gentleman, they would never do that, and you wouldn't be allowed to kill them if they did.  _ Void _ , Uncle.” 

Corvo snickered, nudging Gerome. “You don't want to be a grandfather?” he asked. 

“‘Course I do,” Gerome said, indignantly. “‘S the principle of the thing.”

_ “Still not pregnant,” _ Emily said loudly. “I wanted to talk to you… about the Outsider.” 

Corvo sobered immediately, putting down his soup. “Of course,” he said. “What about him?”

Emily looked a bit nervous but she said, “I know that… his leaving is a sore point, and you must miss him terribly. I know what he meant to you, dad.”

Corvo raised his eyebrows. “You do?” he asked.

“I… maybe overheard Uncle ask him what his intentions were with me, considering he was… with… you?” Emily said sheepishly. 

Very slowly, Corvo turned and fixed Gerome with a scowl. “Did you,” he said. “That's the first  _ I'm  _ hearing about this conversation.”

Gerome flushed. “I forgot about it?” he offered, sheepishly.

“I don't care,” Emily interjected. “I don't really understand it either, but if he made you happy, I don't care.” She looked intensely uncomfortable but forged on. “And I'm glad you two… got your acts together too. Especially with what I wanted to talk to you about.” 

“Forgot about it,” Corvo muttered but turned his attention back to Emily. “Tell us what?”

She cleared her throat. “I've seen him. Recently. Hours ago, recently.”

Corvo froze. “And?” he asked.

“And… he's nothing like the… he's nothing like himself. He helped raise me and it's like he barely even remembers. Or if he does remember, he doesn't care. He spoke to me - at length - But didn't give me a chance to even respond. It was… very odd, he kept disappearing and reappearing and spoke in strange, half-cryptic sentences. He demanded I stay entertaining, and then he was gone.” She bit her lip. “But the Outsider we knew - that you knew - he's gone, Father.”

Corvo flinched. Gerome swore. He took a long minute to master himself before he could speak. “We knew it was going to happen,” he said. “It… wasn't out of the realm of possibility. The Outsider gave away his humanity to become the god he once was. And gods can't love.” He reached over to Emily and took her Marked hand. “So make sure you stay interesting, daughter. It's the only thing we'll have left of him.” 

“But you built the shrine…?” she started to say.

Corvo shook his head. “I'm old, Em. My wars are fought, my time of being interesting is over. Maybe if he'd been in the Void when your mother had died. Maybe then. But now? I'm just an old Lord Protector.”

“An’ I’m just annoying,” Gerome added with an amused smile. “I think he knows my opinion on this  _ magic” _ \- he wiggled his fingers - “oxshit.”

Emily snorted. “I can teleport,” she said. “You can keep your augments.” 

“Not this again please,” Corvo groaned. 

“I’m jus’ sayin’,” Gerome protested. “I was fuckin’ right about the magic bein’ dangerous. I know shit.”

Corvo sighed. “You know  _ something _ , that's for sure.” He leaned back in his chair. “Emily, you don't have to walk on eggshells around me. Yes, I miss him, but it's alright. I'll be okay.”

She nodded slowly. “Okay. If you're… sure.”

“I am. We can get through this.” He smiled a little. “And mind your Uncle, you'll give him grey hairs over this magic business.”

“It ain’t natural,” Gerome grumbled to no one in particular.

Emily leaned over and kissed Corvo’s cheek, then Gerome’s. “I'll be careful,” she said. Then, with a wink, she turned into black smoke and was gone, disappearing through the window. 

Corvo sighed, leaning his elbows on his knees and holding his head up. “Well,” he said. “That's that.”

“Still don’t like it,” Gerome muttered.

“Noted,” Corvo murmured with a small smile. His smile faded and he turned slightly toward his terminal. “Everyman?”

[Yes, Lord Protector?]

“Comb the Tower's internal Net and find the rest of the Outsider junk data. If it's corrupted, delete it. Let me know once you're done, or if you find something that isn't corrupted. Otherwise, I don't need to see it.”

[Understood, Lord Protector.]

Corvo turned off his terminal. “Let's go get something sweet?” he asked Gerome. “I suddenly have a craving for sweet.”

Gerome ducked down to kiss him. “Wanna check out the new gelato place? You can tell me how your hometown gelato is better.”

Corvo laughed. “Hometown gelato  _ is _ better!” he said, standing and wrapping his arm around Gerome's waist. “But if you're willing to listen to me complain then, yes,  _ caro.  _ Lead the way.”

*

[... ector? Lord Protector, I apologize for waking you.]

Corvo frowned into his pillow, looking up at one of the sensors in his room with a scowl. “This had better be good, Everyman.”

The VI paused. [Approximately 15.3 hours ago, your stated order was to alert you to an uncorrupted Outsider junk file. Do you amend the order?]

Corvo grumbled, reaching for his datapad. “No,” he said yawning. “Just, give me the details.”

[The file itself is too large to run on a datapad,] Everyman said. [However, there are a few smaller files included in it. Do you wish to see those?]

Rolling his eyes, Corvo grunted an agreement, bringing the datapad close to his face to focus in the bright light. Two of the files were runtime files but the third was a Read_Me file tagged with his name and rank.

Still half asleep, Corvo took a few attempts to hit the file, opening it on the third try.

_ My dear Corvo, _ it read.

Corvo's breath caught and he turned up the brightness to see better, tentatively hoping, his heart beating a mile a minute. 

_ I hope you can forgive me for one last secret. I didn’t know if this would work out as I had hoped, but if you’re reading this, then the file should be intact. I didn’t want to leave you in false hope if things didn’t work out quite as planned. _

_ Download the largest file to the Tower network and open it. _

Corvo sat up, nearly launching himself off the bed in his haste. All tiredness had fled, and he scrambled across the bed to get to his desk. He didn't mean to wake Gerome, but the other man flailed upward, knives in both hands, brandishing them at nothing. 

“Whazzafrgl?” Gerome demanded blinking rapidly and staring around.

“Sorry,” Corvo said, tossing the datapad down on his lap. “Read that.” He slid into his desk chair, turning on his terminal. “Everyman, send the file to my terminal and make sure the file path opens straight into the Tower.”

“Buh…?”

[... Are you quite certain?] Everyman asked. [There are inherent dangers in opening an executive file into the Network for the Tower.]

“I'm aware of the dangers,” Corvo said. “But this file has been sitting in your network for weeks with no harm.”

[... File sent.]

“Thank you.” Corvo opened the file folder and looked down at it, waiting for the icon to turn green. “Gerome?” Corvo prompted, as Everyman ran another diagnostic on the file. “I didn't mean to wake you. I got… excited.”

“Wi’ good fuckin’ reason,” Gerome mumbled, sliding out from under the covers and peering over Corvo’s shoulder. “Think that’s him?”

“I don't know. That seems too good to be true,” Corvo said. “But he left it for me, so… whatever it is, it was a part of him. Maybe that will be enough.”

[The file is ready,] Everyman interjected. [Do you wish to download it to the Tower Network?]

“Yes,” Corvo said firmly. 

[Very well. Downloading now. 3% complete.] Everyman pulled up a bar on his terminal, showing the rising number. It went slowly, but considering the size of the file, Corvo wasn't surprised. 

He leaned back against Gerome's chest. “I don't know how I'm supposed to be feeling right now,” he admitted. 

Gerome shrugged and draped his arms around Corvo’s shoulders. “‘S a fuckin’ intense moment.”

The bar slowly reached the top, capping at 100% and holding there for a long second.

[Overwrite in process,] Everyman chimed.

“Overwrite?” Corvo asked, frowning. “Overwrite of what?”

The Tower's speakers hissed, then emitted a high pitched screeching whine, as though they were exposed to a truly horrible feedback loop. Corvo flinched and covered his ears. “Everyman?” he demanded.

The sound ended a second after he spoke, but Everyman didn't answer. The Tower remained silent, static crackling a little in the background. 

Corvo took a deep breath and very quietly asked, “... Outsider?”

<Hello, my Host.>

* 

THE END.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Troo: And that is it! Barring any coda we write, this is the end of the series! It's been a blast writing this with Drea. Thanks to all of you who kudos'd and commented! I have a few projects of my own I'm going to be writing, so stay tuned!


End file.
